


Steal My Pain Away

by 3hree6ix5ive



Category: The Old Guard (Movie 2020)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, F/F, F/M, Gen, I love Booker he's my depressed French baby, M/M, eventual Quynh redemption she's not evil just pissed AF, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-09-03
Updated: 2020-10-06
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:47:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,874
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26262886
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/3hree6ix5ive/pseuds/3hree6ix5ive
Summary: This picks up years after the movie. Booker gets tortured, the team finds him by accident and he makes his way back to the team under not-so-great circumstance. Booker is really broken and then bunch of shit happens because Quynh is still really really pissed. Quynh is really mean at first but she'll be redeemed and join the team before this wraps up. I think I'm going to introduce an OFC because Booker deserves love too and I can't see him dating anyone on the team.First chapter is from Nile's POV, the rest will be from Booker's (I think).Inspired by Broken by Seether because I was playing a rando playlist on Spotify and I said OMG THIS SONG COULD BE ABOUT BOOKER and then this plot invaded my brain.
Relationships: Andy | Andromache of Scythia & Quynh | Noriko, Joe | Yusuf Al-Kaysani/Nicky | Nicolò di Genova, eventual Booker | Sebastien Le Livre/OFC
Comments: 44
Kudos: 134





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Nile stops running when they approach the house. She looks behind her and sees Andy nod, then glances to her right and watches as Nicky and Joe slowly creep forward. When Joe gives her the thumbs up, she glances at the tablet in her hand. She’s read the information at least a hundred times but reviews it again anyways. Copley assures them that this is the place, and his intel is typically good, but she needs to be certain. This isn’t just any job. 

“Nile,” she hears Joe’s voice over their comm, “we good?”

She looks down at the tablet, “one heat signature; slumped on the ground, not moving. Nothing else.”

“Maybe that's her,” Nicky says, “let’s go.” Nile hopes Nicky is right, that after five and half years of searching, they’ve finally figured out where Quynh has been hiding, a tiny, nondescript town in cold ass Russia of all places.

When she no longer dreamt of Quynh drowning over and over, when she saw Quynh walking around and living life, everything changed. Their focus, Andy's focus, was finding Quynh. Copley started looking into it and Nile had no more contact with him. They didn't want to risk Quynh finding Copley. They didn't even mention his name around her. They'd tell Copley what she told them. He accessed every contact he had, but there was no information on anyone being rescued from the ocean, let alone someone trapped in an iron coffin. He needed more intel but until a few months ago, Nile only saw Quynh in a room, only felt Quynh’s psychotic anger and need for vengeance.

Nile mentioned Quynh's rage, the violence she felt and hated the looks on her team's faces, part devastation, part disbelief. She allowed them to believe they had convinced her she was mistaken about the twisted parts of the dreams. She knew she wasn't; she also knew they needed to believe she was. 

So, she nodded when Nicky reasoned that Quynh was rightfully angry, but would never deliberately hurt people, agreed when he reminded her that they understood the implications of familial betrayal. Nicky did that often. He never directly mentioned Booker or what had happened to lead to Booker's exile almost six years ago, but she could see that he still felt the pain of Booker’s betrayal. Nile guesses that's because six years is like a blip to someone who's almost 1000 years old. Nile was still a new immortal and still experienced time like a mortal. Six years meant at least six new iPhones, it was her younger brother graduating college, starting a career, getting married and becoming a father. It was the difference between being in her mid-twenties and early thirties. Six years was almost a decade and for humans, a decade is a long ass time. 

It also why she didn't disagree when Joe shook his head when she mentioned how Quynh was dealing with being back, because Joe insisted that kind of violence wasn’t at the core of who Quynh was, that Quynh loved helping people. _You don’t know her. She isn't capable of doing that to innocent people._

__

And, what could she say to that? Joe was right. She didn't know Quynh, but after a 500-year absence, did any of them really know her anymore either? She just nodded though, because she wasn’t sure if Joe was trying to convince her, himself, or Andy. 

__

Ever since she mentioned that Quynh wasn’t in the ocean anymore, Andy had been relentless in her efforts to find Quynh. She asked about the dreams every morning, insisted Nile tell Joe about them several times so he could draw what she saw. Every sketch was sent to Copley with the expectation he would figure out where Quynh was. It was never enough though, just an abandoned house seemingly in the middle of nowhere, darkened rooms, shadows, and flashes of anger, glee, and satisfaction in Quynh's eyes. 

__

Nile wanted to figure it out, to give Andy some peace now that she was mortal, but despite all her efforts, she couldn’t find anything in the dreams that hinted at Quynh’s location. She wondered why Quynh didn’t just come to them, since she knew Quynh would be dreaming about her too. She shuddered at the thought of who and what was keeping Quynh where she was. 

__

In moments of desperation, she called Booker to find about his dreams to see if they could figure things out. For the first year, calls when to voicemail; texts were delivered, but unread. A couple years later, the number was no longer in service. _Thanks for nothing asshole_ , she thought when she hung up. Regretting it when she remembered that they had exiled Booker. They had no claim on him or his time, not anymore. 

__

She didn't realize how desperate they were to find Quynh until they started searching random homes and cottages around France, Belgium, and the Netherlands. Every home looked like it had been abandoned for years, and with every place they searched, Andy became more and more desperate. 

__

_They're Booker's homes, Nicky explained after Andy destroyed everything in fourth place. Andy wants find out about Booker's dreams. Maybe we just need a different perspective, but it's like he's vanished. Like he doesn't want us to find him._

__

_You told him he was supposed to be alone for a century. What did you expect?_

__

_We know you've tried to contact him. I expected he would swallow his pride because of his love for Andy. I hoped he'd want to help her find Quynh._

__

_But, now you want to hear about his dreams, she asked, now when it fits your purpose, but not before when the dreams were slowly destroying his psyche, when he was forced to suffer alone because hearing about them made you feel like shit? Because you know if I had them when she was in the ocean, so did he, you know that right? How many do you think Booker had over the last two centuries?_

__

_It doesn't excuse what he did. He could have told us._

__

_You could have asked, too._

__

_You told us._

__

_I told you when the dreams changed. After the first one, I didn't tell you about the ones where I felt her drowning over and over. I didn’t say anything until the dreams changed. None of you had to say anything, I just knew you didn’t want to hear what it felt like to feel Quynh's suffering._

__

“Joe and Nicky, take the front,” Andy orders, pulling Nile from her memory, “Nile and I will take the back.” 

__

Nile tucks the tablet into her pocket and steps back so Andy can take the lead. She's still not comfortable with Andy's fragile body being in front like this, especially since she still refuses to wear bullet proof vests -- _it takes away my mobility; I'm faster without it_ \-- but Andy always goes in first and since this is Quynh, Nile knows she won't win this battle. 

__

She opens the back door slowly and quietly follows Andy into the house, gagging when they're hit with the unmistakable stench of death and decay. She hears Nicky swear in Italian and on reflex, her hands tighten around her gun. "It's okay," Nicky mumbles quickly, "I just stepped on ... on something. We're clear."

__

They turn their flashlights on. Nile looks around and reels backwards, nearly knocking over Andy, who's staring around the room in disbelief. There's lots of blood in the room, more blood than Nile expected, but worse yet, there are also body parts: legs, fingers, hands, and what Nile thinks are pieces of an intestine. She looks down and sees what Nicky stepped on. It's an eyeball; there’s a second one beside it. Nile shakes her head, heaves, and throws up. She waves the team off as they come to check on her, so they continue surveying the room. She doesn't need an audience as she throws up what was Nicky’s delicious salmon quiche. 

__

"MOTHERFUCKER," Andy kicks a table, sending it flying across the room and into a wall. "I didn't think it ... I didn’t know she was ... Why would she do this?"

__

"I dunno boss," Joe shakes his head, "I dunno. Let's just focus on finding the person linked to that heat signature. Maybe it's her. If it isn't, maybe they have the answers we need to get Quynh the help she needs."

__

Andy shakes her head, "it's too late. Quynh is lost to us."

__

"It's never too late boss," Nicky says, "with time, patience, and love, I believe people can be saved."

__

Andy nods but she looks more distraught than she did when Joe and Nicky determined the length of Booker’s sentence. Nile opens the tablet again and points down. There's a room underneath them, a spot is glowing green so she knows someone is there. They find a door, hidden behind an old bookcase, yank it open and cautiously make their way down the rickety steps to what can only be called a torture chamber. There are no windows, no natural light of any kind, and harsh lights are flashing on and off. Every few minutes, loud music plays, then stops for 30 seconds, and then starts up again. It's loud, screaming heavy metal that gives Nile a headache after just a few minutes. She's curious where Quynh learned about this kind of modern torture, wonders if she read about it in those books upstairs and then experimented on her prisoners, revelling in the results, the same way people celebrate their culinary accomplishments as they work their way through cookbooks. 

__

The music starts again, but this time Nicky shoots the speaker. He fires again and the lights stop flashing. He nods at her when she smiles. _Try to enjoy the little things_ , Booker had told her when she asked him how to handle living for centuries, before adding more solemnly, _if you can_. 

__

Nicky stops when they come across another door. Andy nods and takes point, Joe and Nicky stand to her right and this time, Nile takes the rear, ready to put a bullet in anything that emerges from that room. Andy opens the door and, when nothing comes out, she takes a tentative step forward. 

__

"Back so soon? Oh, lucky me." Nile gasps. The face may be unrecognizable, but she would know that voice anywhere. _Booker_. His face is swollen and bloody. His hair and beard are long, unkempt, and matted. One of his arms is chained to the wall, hanging at an unnatural angle. His shoulder is dislocated. Nile wonders if he did that trying to escape or if it was his captor. 

__

"What treats do you have for me now?" Booker chuckles as he switches over to Vietnamese, "I'm sorry to tell you my eyeballs haven't totally come back in yet so you can't take those again. I know how much you like pulling those squishy things out." He waves the still growing stump of arm in front of his face. "Oh no wait, I can see shadows! Shadows, Quynh! I think one is kind of back. You want it?" When he doesn't hear anything, Booker laughs and switches to French, "ohh-kay, I guess that's a no on the half-grown eyeball. Can't say I blame you. I know you don't want to rip out my tongue since you like hearing me scream. You want an ear?"

__

"What the motherfuck," Andy whispers, "Jesus."

__

Booker cocks his head, "who's there?” He tries to rub at his ears, but his hand is still growing back so it doesn't do much except make his already knotted hair more matted. "Come on Quynh, this silence is unbecoming of a lady of your many talents.”

__

It pains Nile to see Booker like this. He's covered in dirt, grime, blood, and what smells like human waste. She thinks about the blood and body parts upstairs and realizes why they couldn't find Booker all these years. _Has he been here, like this, that long?_ She squints, trying to remember the first time she tried to contact Booker. It would have been five years ago when she first started dreaming about Quynh free from her iron prison. _Five fucking years._ She chokes back some vomit and looks at her team. They’re all speechless, frozen in place, staring at their exiled brother. 

__

"Hhhhello?" Booker's voice is softer this time. He sounds afraid and if Nile lives to be 10,000 she’ll knows she'll never forget the tone in Booker’s voice. He looks up, his face trying to find the direction of the voices he heard. He still can't see anything though, so he huffs and slumps down. "Say something, please," he begs, "please, I told you, I don't know where they are. They'll move every few months. It's what they do when they don't feel safe. They'll know you're out because of Nile. I'm sure they have new safe houses that I don't know about.” When he doesn't hear anything, Booker sucks in a breath, “Quynh Quynh Quynh, is this because I kicked you? I'm sorry. It was instinct. It won't ... it won't happen again."

__

Finally, after what seems like hours but Nile knows is likely just a few minutes, Andy takes a step forward. When Booker hears footsteps, he reels back, trying to get as far away from the noise as possible given his constraints. “Book," she says, with a soft tenderness, "it's okay. You're safe now."

__

Booker sucks in a deep breath, "who... who is that?"

__

"Book, it's me."

__

"An-Andy?"

__

Yeah," she sits down beside him, "we're all here, Joe and Nicky, and Nile."

__

"Oh," Booker slumps down, “I guess I look like shit, huh? Probably smell like it too.”

__

“Nah,” Andy said “it’s an improvement.”

__

Booker laughs, then chokes and spits up some blood. Andy sucks in a breath and waves the rest of them in. When points at the thick iron chains holding Booker’s arm in place and Nicky swings his sword. The chains break and Booker's arm falls to the ground in a loud thud. 

__

"Can you stand?" Andy waves Joe over. Booker shrugs so they put their arms around him and pull him up, nearly dropping him when Booker cries out in pain. "What," Andy panics, "what hurts?"

__

"Dunno. Burns on my back, broken ribs, ruptured spleen, take your pick. Haven’t healed yet. Gimme a minute."

__

"We don't have a minute. We gotta move before she comes back,” Andy grunts, "she'll come looking for us when she finds out you're gone. We gotta be ready."

__

This time Joe and Nicky haul him up, Booker screams in agony again, but apologizes and tells them to keep going. “I told her,” he mumbles as they make their way up the stairs. Booker coughs and spits some blood on the ground. It lands on one of his discarded hands. Nile winces but Booker laughs, "hey, is that my hand?" He spits again and this time bile and blood come out. Nile looks away as Booker rubs the remnants from his lips on his shoulder. 

__

“I told her you'd look for me when I didn't show. She said if you didn't look for her you wouldn't look for a traitor. But I knew you’d try; I knew it."

__

"When you didn't show up where?" Andy kicks the hand out of the way so Joe and Nicky can drag Booker out of the house. 

__

"At the rendez-vous point, that bar by the beach," Booker grunts, "how long did you have to look? What's new in the world now?"

__

"What the fuck are you talking about?” Andy stops walking and turns to look at Booker. 

__

"My exile is over. Isn't that why you came to get me?"

__

"You think we waited?” Andy shakes her head, "that we’d let you ... let that happen to you because of your motherfucking exile?”

__

“I ... yes?” Booker hesitates, “we weren’t allowed to see each other?”

__

Andy shakes her head, “Nile only dreamt of Quynh. We didn’t know she had you."

__

"Oh, I thought ... what year is it?"

__

"It's 2025," Nile answers, "2026 in a few months." 

__

“Oh,” Booker laughs and then laughs again, "it felt longer.” He tries to pull himself free from Joe and Nicky. “Well thank you very much for the assist. If you could just tell me where I am, I’ll go.”

__

Andy opens the door to the house and Nile peeks outside. No sign of Quynh. She nods and everyone makes their way outside, "where the fuck do you think you’re gonna go?"

__

“I’ll figure it out,” Booker mumbles, “she won’t dream about me anymore so she can't find me. She will look for Nile though. You gotta keep the kid safe.” He waves at nothing in particular with his partially grown hand, "hiya kid, s'up? Is s'up still a thing? I hope it's still a thing. I like it."

__

Nile rolls her eyes and ignores him, “you’re coming back with us."

__

“No no, I have 95 years left,” Booker insists, “just tell me where we are please.”

__

“Northern Russia,” Andy grits her teeth, "and I know you hate cold weather and really hate being back in Russia, and since you have no socks or shoes or winter clothes, you're coming back with us unless you want to die over and over in Russia once again.” Booker doesn’t argue this time. Nile isn’t sure if it’s because he really doesn't want to die in Russia or because Andy’s tone says there’s no room to argue. 

__

They pile into the car, Joe drives with Nicky up front; Nile and Andy slide into the back with Booker. Joe drives quickly at first but slows down when he hears Booker wheeze with every bump on the road. Later when the stench from Booker's body becomes too much, they roll down the windows. Booker starts shivering immediately. When they try to roll up the windows, he stops them with a laugh. "Sorry, didn't have the luxury of modern plumbing." 

__

They wrap him in some blankets Nicky put in the trunk. It doesn't really help warm him up, they're in Northern Russia after all, but Booker seems to appreciate having a soft blanket around his body. 

__

Booker eventually falls asleep and Nile looks over at Andy. "Why is he taking so long to heal?" 

__

"Too much trauma on the body," Andy explains, "probably took damage to areas before the injuries had a chance to heal."

__

"Will he be okay? Is he-."

__

"Mortal?" Andy shakes her head, "he just needs rest. By tomorrow, he won't have a mark on him. It'll be like none of this happened." 

__


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Booker wakes up when the car stops moving and everyone gets out. He looks around, trying to get his bearings, but there are no landmarks of any kind, just an empty field covered in snow. It was night when they started driving and the sun is just starting to set now so he figures they were driving for at least fifteen hours. Where ever they are, it's far from where Quynh had him. He isn't sure if that's strategic on their part, or for his benefit, but he's relieved nonetheless.

He's almost completely healed now but everyone still looks at him like he might fall apart. It's a weird juxtaposition, especially coming from Joe and Nicky, who insist on holding him as they make their way to the safe house. They haven't said a word since he was found, not even to each other, and yet, they're both handling him like a newborn kitten. 

He wonders why they don't just drop him where they are now, leave him in this empty field to die in Russia like his first deaths. Joe would like that kind of poetic full circle shit. He has to hand it to Quynh, bringing him back to Russia is particularly depraved. As if he didn't already hate this place enough to begin with. Now he has five years of memories to hate it even more.

"What's so funny?" Nile looks concerned. 

He didn't realize he was giggling out loud. He must sound as crazy as he looks. "Nothing. Just fucking Russia."

"Fucking Russia," Andy agrees. She looks at him then and smiles, "sorry about the walk. Ran out of gas."

"You're supposed to put extra cans in the trunk," Booker chides, "you can get them at any hardware store. The 20 litre ones will be good." He hears Joe huff a laugh. _Right, this isn't his business anymore._ He winces, "sorry, forget it. I'm sure you know what you're doing."

Nile waves him off, "extra gas was the last thing I thought about. So was thermal fucking underwear. Why did no one tell me how cold Russia is? Basic fucking necessities, fam."

Andy laughs, "Book would have told you. He also would have bought those hand and feet warmers."

"Oh those little warmers," Joe says mournfully, "I love those things."

"I'll make you a list for next time," Booker offers. 

“Yay,” Nile cheers. 

Andy looks at the tablet in her hand, "it's only another couple miles. Do you need to rest?"

He shakes his head so they keep going. No one says say anything else as they trudge though the thick snow. Booker doesn't remind them that he has no shoes or socks or protective clothing of any kind. With what he's experienced in the last several years, frostbite, which will heal quickly, isn't even registering on his pain threshold. The cold is another thing though. He shivers and wraps the blanket close to his neck. 

"Awe, fucking finally," Nile exclaims suddenly, "we're here."

Once inside, Joe hands him some clean clothes and towels and points toward the bathroom. The clothes are probably his or Nicky's and Booker is about to ask for something different, since he's a couple sizes larger than they are, but then he realizes he's probably lost a lot of weight, so he simply nods his thanks and walks to the bathroom. 

He squints at the face in the mirror. He hardly recognizes himself. His hair is so dirty it looks dark brown and he's hasn't been this skinny since before the Revolution. He pulls his hair back and scratches his scraggly beard. He needs to shave it and cut his hair, but wants to shower first. He still has 95 years left on his sentence and he isn't sure know how long he'll be allowed to stay. 

Andy and Nile may be happy to see him but he knows that Nicky and Joe don’t want him here. He doesn't blame them. He doesn't deserve their kindness or hospitality. He's already decided to leave as soon as he’s cleaned up and hopefully gets some warmer clothes. He chuckles when he remembers it’s only been a little less than six years since the team exiled him. He would have sworn his aged collection of Whiskey that his exile was over. He understands why Quynh laughed gleefully when he told her the others would find him. She knew he wasn’t even a quarter of the way through his sentence, knew no one was coming for him, knew no one would even notice his absence. He wonders if she was waiting for him to figure it out on his own to enjoy the moment when he lost all hope. She desperately wanted to break him, did her best to try, but it was impossible to break something that’s been broken for over two centuries. 

He rubs his face again and goes to lift off his shirt. He groans when he finds it stuck to his body. He pulls harder but it won't budge. _Oh right, the blow torch._ His back had healed over parts of the shirt, which was now stuck to him. 

They had helped each other with things like this before he fucked everything up, but he isn't certain any of them would want to help him now. But since they've already seen him covered in his own shit and piss, its not like he's worried about his dignity. With a sigh, he opens the door and heads the kitchen, stopping when he hears his name. 

“Did you even see him?" Andy mutters, "we can't ask him to leave." 

"We won't turn him away now," Nicky nods, "he can stay a couple days to heal and get settled. We'll get him clothes and food and whatever else he needs. Then, he should go."

"Go fucking where?" Andy slams her hand on the table. "What happened to make him lose time like that? He thought it had been over 100 years. He thought ... he thought we knew what was happening to him and didn't do anything to help because of that fucking sentence."

“He’s paid enough of a price," Nile looks at Nicky and Joe, "you wanted him to learn from being alone, but I know you didn't want this to happen to him."

“This is exactly what would have happened to us with Merrick," Nicky speaks softly, "that could've been me and Joe, What you saw, that room, that could've been us.”

“I know that," Nile sighs, "but it wasn't. And I've been thinking about what Booker did since he's been gone. Tell me, Nicky, if Joe had died, what would you do be reunited with him?" She looks at Joe, "if Nicky were mortal, how would you handle your grief when he passed? How far would you have gone to end your life for good?" When they don't say anything, she presses, "why is his love for his wife and sons any less significant than yours?" 

"You're right," Nicky agrees, "but how Joe and I may have acted in hypothetical situations doesn't change that Booker actually did betray us." 

"So, we just kick him, leave him vulnerable to Quynh?"

“He said it himself," Joe says softly, "they've met so she can’t find him anymore.”

“She didn’t do this to hurt him," Andy buries her head in her hands, "she did this to hurt us, to hurt me. She let us find him. She wanted to send a message and she'll do it again, given the chance." She sighs sadly, "all this time he's been there with her. All this time, he's been protecting us. That has to stand for something." 

Nile looks up at that, "Protecting us?"

"The safe house we've been using," Joe explains, "he knew about them. He set them up for us. He didn't tell her where they were."

"Well, shit," Nile mutters. 

Joe sighs, "you think she'll come for us now?"

"I dunno. I thought I knew her but," Andy shakes her head, "even if there's a small chance she does, we can't let him go. He'd allow himself to be re-captured because he thinks it's what he deserves, sees it as some kind of penance.”

"I don't understand how she got the drop on him to begin with," Joe worries his bottom lip, "remember Johannesburg? He escaped 10 armed people and didn't have one weapon. He fought like he was rabid."

"I was drunk," Booker explains as he knocks on the wall to get their attention. "Drank about 15 bottles a day for six months after I got to Paris. Didn't realize the dreams had stopped. Also thought she was a figment of my imagination." He shrugs, "well, I uhh ... I think my shirt is stuck, I can’t get it off." 

Joe nods and stands. Booker starts to say something to the rest of them, but changes his mind when no one will look in his direction. He motions for Joe to go in front of him and Joe shoots him a quizzical look before realizing that Booker doesn't trust that he can turn his back to Joe and be safe. He starts to explain that it's not Joe he distrusts, but Joe dismisses him with a wave.

In the bathroom, Joe stands in front of the mirror and motions for him to stand in front. allowing Booker to turn his back to Joe and watch him at the same time. He cuts away Booker's shirt, pulling at each piece that has welded to his body. He's being so gentle and for Booker, who hasn't been touched like this in decades, even before Quynh took him, it's too much, especially from the friend he betrayed. He's overcome with emotion and squeezes his eyes shut, because he can’t stand to watch Joe being so kind. 

Joe stops and Booker feels him step backwards. He opens his eyes and looks at Joe through the mirror. "I can help with your hair and beard, too?" Joe offers. Booker nods so Joe cuts away the matted clumps of Booker's hair and his overgrown beard. When he's done, he sets a razor on the counter and Booker finishes the rest on his own. 

Joe leaves him alone after that, taking Booker's discarded clothing and hair with him. Booker steps into the shower and washes away years of filth and blood. He's not sure how long he's in there, but he keeps scrubbing even after the water runs cold. He rubs his skin raw, waits for it to heal, and then rubs it raw again. _Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat._ He steps out of the shower when he hears a knock on the door. He still doesn't feel clean; he thinks it might be years before he does. 

He dresses and looks at himself in the mirror. Except for the weight loss and shorter hair, he looks exactly like he always has. He steps out to find Andy there to greet him. She goes for a hug but he steps back out of her reach. "Sorry," he mumbles, "I .. sorry."

"It's okay Book," Andy smiles sadly, "I just missed you. Come eat. Nicky made soup."

"I don't want to be a bother," he chews his lip, "if I could just trouble you for some shoes, maybe a coat, I'll be on my way." Andy opens her mouth to say something, probably to dissuade him from leaving, but he shakes his head. "I heard," he explains, "I know they don't want me here. It's okay, I'll always be grateful you got me out of there, even if finding me was an accident. Helping me, bringing me here, it's more than I deserve."

"I can't handle worrying about you. Please stay. Stay. For me, please." She doesn't wait for him to respond, simply walks to the kitchen, expecting him to follow. He does. 

He takes the empty chair at the table and accepts a bowl of soup from Nicky. He holds it in his hands, allowing the heat to warm him. He brings the bowl close to this face and inhales. It smells delicious, like the broth has been simmering for days. 

"Are you cold?" Nile asks. "We can turn on the fireplace."

"Not a good idea," he replies, "she'll see the smoke from the chimney and will come here."

"I'll get you a blanket."

"I'm okay Nile, thank you," he takes a sip of soup, "and thank you for the soup, Nicky. I've missed your cooking."

He looks up and catches Nicky watching him. Nicky doesn't say anything, which isn't a surprise since he's the silent type, but he offers Booker a tense smile and a nod. Booker takes a bigger mouthful of soup this time and stops when he hears Nicky sigh. 

"Don't eat too mu--"

"Right," Booker puts the bowl on the table, "I don't have any money on me, but I can get it. Quynh didn't want it. I can pay for--"

"That's not what I meant," Nicky rubs his forehead, "you haven't been eating much, I assume?" Booker nods. "Then you should eat a little at a time or you may get sick. Your body might not know how to digest the sudden intake of food. We heal yes, but we're not experienced with what you ... we're not experienced with this. Finish that bowl for now. Slowly. If you're okay, you can have more in a few hours."

"Okay," Booker nods. 

He ends up being fine. Turns out their bodies can recover after years of hardly eating too. When they all go to bed, Booker tries to take the couch, but Nile shoos him into her room, refusing to listen when he insists the couch will be fine. 

They must be pretty far north because it's deadass dark by the time crawls into bed. He's uncomfortable at first, not wanting to put any of them out, especially Nile, but when he sinks into the mattress, the first one in years, he can't help but moan. Before he drifts off, he opens the curtains so he can be gone by first light. 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The updates will start to slow down but I intend to post one chapter a week.  
> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Booker wakes up with a gasp a couple hours later, covered in sheen of sweat. He was dreaming of Quynh again, which wasn’t new, but this time, she laughed as she used his severed arm to paint stripes on his face with his blood. _Of course. Of course I'm finally free of those underwater dreams only to be plagued with different dreams._ He wonders if the new ones will last 200 years too, if he’s destined to be haunted by Quynh for eternity. 

He rubs the sweat from his face with his sleeve. Since he doesn't want to go back to sleep, he rips a sheet of paper from Nile's notebook and carefully writes out the list he had promised earlier.

_Gas Cans, 20L (2)_  
_Thermal Underwear, Gloves, Socks, and Inserts (cold weather travel)_  
_Change of clothes_  
_Burner phones (4)_  
_Energy bars_  
_Water_  
_Blankets_  
_Wet wipes. Lots of wet wipes._

He reads it over a few times, and includes a few additional items: Icy Hot, Band-aids, saline solution, gauze, Tylenol, and a first-aid kit for Andy. They’ll need to care for Andy's body after missions now, do what they can until Copley can get her a doctor if she needs one. He leaves the list on the nightstand where Nile will find it. He considers including his email in case she needs advice, but changes his mind. He’s not supposed to have any contact with them and Nile would use it to check in. He doesn’t want to put her in the position of keeping something from the team. 

He creeps out of the room, which is easy since he only has socks on his feet, and finds the living room empty. Nile must be sleeping in Andy's room. He takes Joe's jacket, finds a scarf and toque, and slips into the boots Nicky left by the door. He raids Andy's jacket and pulls out a wad of Rubles. He sends up a silent apology for stealing from them and vows to pay them back as soon as he has access to his accounts. He grabs a bottle of water on his way out and slips into the still of the night. 

He curses when a gust of cold wind slaps him in the face. _Goddamn Russia always so fucking cold._ He wraps the scarf around his neck. He curses again when he sees a fresh blanket of snow on the ground. He had planned to use their footprints to find the car they ditched, push it until he found a gas station, fill it up, and then drive until he found Quynh's house. _Okay new plan._ He rubs his hands together, chooses a random direction, and starts walking. He just needs to find a road. If there’s a road, there will be cars, if there are cars, he can hitchhike, if he can hitchhike, he can find a way to the house. 

He's not sure how long or how far he walks, but he had discarded the bottle of water a while back because it was frozen solid. If the fingers that have frozen, fallen off and then regrown twice are any indication, it’s at least five miles. So he’s relieved when he hears a car behind him. He turns, ready to stick out his thumb until he sees Andy in the driver’s seat. Joe is beside her and Nile and Nicky are in the back. No one looks happy.

Andy rolls down the window and revs the engine, "where the fuck are you going?" 

"None of your fucking business." He doesn't need this shit. He turns to walk away but Andy accelerates and the bumper hits him in the leg. It doesn't hurt but he still jumps backwards. "The fuck?"

"The fuck is, you stole our stuff," Joe looks at him calmly, "after we took you in, after we helped you. Almost six years later and you're a selfish piece of shit."

"I was going to send you money for all of it," Booker yells, "and I thought you'd be happy that I left. It's what you fucking wanted.”

"We thought Quynh took you," Nile steps out of the car, "we thought she snuck into our home and took you without any of us knowing." She clutches her gun and Booker realizes they're all armed and dressed like they're on a job. _Oh, it's like that_ , he realizes, _they're here to bring me in._

He points at the gun her hand, "you brought that firepower little ole me? I'm flattered really."

Nile steps closer and punches him in the face. It’s a tight, hard punch that he isn’t expecting, especially from Nile, and his head snaps back. 

“Owww, what the fuck Nile!” He rubs his jaw. 

“A fucking list? A fucking list!” She throws the crumbled list at his feet. 

"I told you I would. You said, and I quote ‘Yay!’ I thought it would help.”

“I meant it sarcastically!”

 _Oh. Well._ "In my defense, I've spent the last five years with someone who's around 1500 years old. She's not exactly versed in millennial sarcasm."

"We fucking thought she took you! Do you know how that felt? And then I found your fucking list and realized you left without saying goodbye. You decided you'd rather walk in this fucking cold with Quynh possibly looking for you than stay with us." Nile glares at him. "So. Get. In. The. Fucking. Car."

"She’s not asking," Joe snarls. 

He feels bad for scaring them, he really does, but he won't let their fear sway him. He knows that once they get over it, they'll want him to leave. He decides to gamble, “if you really want me in that car, you’ll have to kill me.”

He gambled wrong. 

"Okay," Nicky nods once, "if that's what you want." And before Booker can react, Nicky shoots him in the chest. _Fucking snipers_ is all Booker can think as he falls to the snow. 

He wakes up in the house with eight sets of eyes staring at him. He tries to get up but Joe presses a gun to his temple. "We didn't want to tie you down, given what you've been through." Joe presses the gun harder into Booker's head, "but I will shoot you if you try to run. Are you gonna make me shoot you?"

Booker laughs, "don't tell me you wouldn't love the chance to do that. I know your husband loved it." He smirks at Nicky," you sure were quick on the draw there, Nicolò. How long have you wanted to do that?"

"We didn't want to hurt you," Joe shakes his head, "you were being a defiant little shit."

"Being a defiant little shit is the only thing that kept me from losing my mind these last years with Quynh. Fuck it, can I be honest?" He doesn't wait for Joe to answer, "it's what kept me going the last 200 years. Those pesky dreams of feeling someone drown in the ocean over and over and over and over were real,” he cackles, “suffocating.”

He stands and holds the barrel of Joe's gun against his heart. "You think threats of dying are a deterrent for me? Death is the only time I feel any kind of peace. Every time I know I’m going to die I hope it will be the last time. It never is though. I. Always. Wake. The. Fuck. Up."

Joe balks, "you can't mean that."

"Why? Because you can't imagine hoping for death?" Booker jeers, "because you see this curse as a blessing? Would you still feel that way if you didn't have Nicky?" When Joe holsters the gun, Booker steps back. "For future reference, since I'm sure you’ll want to control me again soon, threaten to pull out my intestines. That’s something I don't want to experience again."

"We don't want to hurt you," Joe stammers, "we were worried." 

"You don’t get to ... you can't just," Booker throws his hands in the air, "you can't just keep me on a leash. You don't get to fuck with me for fun. Even I deserve better than that."

"That's not what we're doing," Andy protests.

"That's how it feels."

"We rescued you yesterday," Joe glares at him, "but please enlighten us. How are we fucking with you?"

"I already thanked you for getting me out of there!" Booker snaps, “and it's not like you intended to rescue me. You were looking for Quynh and happened to stumble into me. You had an idea of what she was doing and you still wanted to help her. Did you still want to help her after you saw what she had done to me?" He looks at Joe, "do you still intend to help her?"

Joe hesitates and then nods. 

"I thought as much," Booker says sadly. "Why is Quynh worthy of your forgiveness? Your empathy? Your kindness and compassion? Why is there no price for what she did? Is it because she did it to me? If she had done it to Nicky would she be exiled too?"

Joe sighs, "this is a complex situation."

"Because Andy loves her? Because the two of you," he points at Joe and Nicky, "love her." _Because you never loved me the way you love her_ , he hold back from saying.

Turns out he didn't need to. "Book, no," Andy whispers, "that's not ... it's not like that."

 _How is it then,_ he wants to ask. _How is what I did worse than what she did?_ "It's not my intention to make you feel bad for loving her," he clarifies, "and it's okay that Joe and Nicky don't want me here. They only want me to abide by the terms of my exile."

"Things have changed," Andy huffs, "we need to stay together."

"I don't need your pity," Booker shakes his head, "that's why you want me to stay right? You don't need to worry, I'll be okay." 

"You're right, we feel bad for what you've been through," Nicky says thoughtfully, "and we do feel responsible because I believe Andy is right. Quynh did this because she knew this was the most vile way to punish us. We'll let you go--"

"No, we won't," Andy glares at Nicky. 

Nicky gives Andy a pointed look, "we cannot be his captors, too."

"Thank you Nicky," Booker makes his way to the door. 

Nicky nods, "all we ask, all I ask, is two things. One, you check with Copley once a month so we know she hasn't taken you again and, two, you tell us where you were going."

"I'll agree to the monthly check-ins."

"And your plans?"

"I wasn't going to betray you," Booker grits his teeth. 

"You weren't just going for a walk in minus fifty-five degree weather either." Nicky is calm and Booker would punch his stupid, rational face if he didn't think Joe would rip out his intestines. 

Booker squeezes his temple. "Why are you being so difficult? You wanted me gone when I was healed and settled. I'm fucking healed and settled."

"Why are you so reluctant to accept our compassion?"

"It's not compassion if there are chains attached!”

"Book," Andy murmurs and fucking hell he hates it when Andy says his name like that, when she looks at him the way she's looking at him now. His mother used to do the same thing. Kindness mixed with sadness, regret, and worry; hopeful and hopeless at the same time. It was like his mother knew he was soft and weak, that he wasn’t built like his older brothers, that he was stuck in the wrong place and time. He still is in many ways. 

He couldn't deny his mother anything when she looked at him like that. He can't deny Andy now. "I was going to Quynh's. To the house. Not to see her," he adds quickly when he realizes how it may sound. "I don't know where she is."

Andy sits up, "why would you go back there? There's nothing left anymore. Copley had it destroyed hours after we left. Too much of your DNA was ... he said they couldn't collect most of it. Taking down the house was the only way to cover our tracks." 

"He didn't happen to come across my wedding ring and some pictures of my family?" Booker asks, though he's pretty sure they didn't. When Andy shakes her head, Booker frowns, "any idea where she might be?"

"So what's the plan if we do?" Joe gets up in his face and Booker takes a step back, "politely ask please pretty oh please can I have my wedding ring back? And if it's not too much trouble, the pictures of my dead family?"

"It's my wedding ring Joe. My sons." Joe shakes his head and Booker glares, “you really gonna lecture me on being stupid over a wedding ring?”

Joe looks taken aback, “that ... that was different.”

“What are you talking about?” Nicky asks Booker.

Booker ignores Nicky. “Why? Because it’s you and Nicky?”

Nicky looks at Joe. “What the fuck is he talking about Joe?”

Joe sighs. “that job in Nairobi. I lost these rings. We got them back. Booker promised he'd keep that a secret.”

“You shouldn't have asked him to keep that secret in the first place.”

“I knew you’d tell me to let it go!”

“Because rings can be replaced!”

“I like these rings. They’re from our wedding in Lake Louise.”

Booker has to admit, that wedding was one of his favourites. Fifty years ago they had gone to Canada to help one of Andy's contacts and traveled to Banff to relax after the job was done. Joe took one look around Lake Louise and decided he and Nicky were long overdue for another wedding. 

_"Booker, you're my best man," Joe said when Booker protested going shopping for rings and a new suit, "you're supposed to help me with what I need for my big day and you're not allowed to complain."_

_"This is your twentith big day since we've met."_

_"And you've been my best man for all of them. Besides, you owe me."_

_"How do you figure?"_

_"You're the reason Andy won't let us go to football matches anymore."_

_Booker chuckled. They had gone to watch France take on the USSR. They begged Andy to let them get tickets and she finally relented. They didn't even make it through the first half when they were kicked out for getting into a fist fight with some Russian fans. When Andy pressed for details, Booker admitted to starting the fight when Joe went to get them beer. When Joe came back and saw Booker fighting off 20 drunk soccer fans, he dropped the beers and started fighting too. Andy decided they could only watch matches on TV from that moment forward. She assumed Booker initiated the fight because of his dislike for Russia. He never mentioned it was because the fans said something derogatory about Joe. No one needed to know that. Not ever._

_"Just because I owe you, huh?"_

_Joe looked at him quizzically. "Well, no because after Nicky, you're my best friend."_

_"I'm your ... oh."_

_"I guess I'm not yours then?" Joe laughed, "you wound me on this the day before my wedding?"_

_Booker could only roll his eyes at that. Joe's obsession with The Godfather was ridiculous. He pointed at the set of silver rings that Joe would continue to wear to this day. "Those are the rings," he said handing over his own cash when Joe tried to pay, "those are the rings I'll be proud to hold in my pocket when my best friend marries the love of his life. Again."_

"I was happy to help," Booker tries to ease the tension. "I’m not asking for your help. I’m just asking you to let me go.” When Nicky shakes his head, Booker glares, "you said you would. I thought you were a man of your word."

"I am," Nicky nods, "so I think I should be upfront about a few things. Then if you still want to go, you can." Booker does not like where this is going but he agrees to Nicky's terms. It's not like he has a choice. There are four of them and he's unarmed while they are not. "We're at least a day away from the nearest town by car and we have not yet secured a vehicle. How far do you think you can walk before you freeze to death?" 

"I don't know."

"Okay,” Nicky nods, "fair enough, we didn't tell you any of that. But, now that you know the house has been destroyed and there are no clues to Quynh's location, what's your plan?"

"I don't know."

"Hmm. Quynh won't just hand over what she took so you'll need to fight for it. What's her weakness?"

"I. Don't. Know."

"Then, perhaps you should stay where it's safe and warm and come up with some plans. You'll need more than one. Quynh is crafty."

Booker presses his forehead against the wall, "I don't even know where to start. I'm just ... I'm just so fucking tired."

"Then, step one of the plan is to for you to rest."

"I can't. I don't want ... I close my eyes and," he shakes his head, "sometimes it's worse than feeling her drown."

"Tell us," Nicky says. 

Booker shakes his head. He won’t taint their memories of her, they don't need the burden of these dreams, "do you think she'll always be with me like this? If Joe was your destiny, is dreaming of her mine?"

"I believe that destiny should make you feel safe and complete. Destiny does not seek to destroy; it uplifts. This isn't your destiny," Nicky asserts.

"Then what is?" Booker asks. He hates that he sounds like a child, that he's seeking reassurance from someone he hurt, that he craves Nicky's compassion, that Nicky is willing to give it. 

"You have to be patient. I realize that's easy for me to say since I found my destiny so long ago. Just give it time. Your destiny will find you. We're not meant to be alone."


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Booker stays. He's too exhausted to argue, especially with Nicky who would have been a champion debater in another life. Nicky sometimes get this look in his eye, a look that says "challenge me, I dare you" and the thing is, he _wants_ to be challenged, he's itching for it. He's as eager to destroy you with a look and a few words as he is with his sword. So for now, Booker stays. 

It's a few days before they're able to leave for London to meet Copley. Booker spends most of that time trying to rest. No, he spends most of it cursing the Russian cold and drinking tea laced with Whiskey. Neither help him rest. 

London is gloomier and drearier than he remembers, but it's not Russia so he won't complain. They head to Copley's as soon as they get off the plane. And, since Nile still needs to avoid contact with Copley because of Quynh, they drop her off near the Tower of London. She wants to look at the jewels those "rich, white racists stole from brown and black folk before destroying their countries" which makes Booker smile with pride. He may be centuries removed from the French Revolution, but monarchies, even constitutional ones, still leave a bitter taste in his mouth. 

Copley serves them tea, scones, and jam. It's very British and endearing in way that only Copley could pull off without being pretentious. He and Andy share a look at Copley's exquisite tea set, probably something his wife added to their wedding registry. He chuckles seeing how uncomfortable Andy is holding the dainty cup in her hand. 

Copley approaches Booker's debrief the way a handler would an agent. No emotion, just question after question. He wants to know as much as possible about Booker's "time with Quynh” which makes Booker laugh because it sounds like they took a gap year and travelled around Europe. 

He shares what he remembers: how Quynh was in his Paris apartment, how they fought and she subdued him easily because he was drunk, and how she shot him with a tranquilizer which knocked him out until he woke up in that cell where he was alone for several weeks with no food or water. He tells Copley he thought he imagined seeing her in his apartment, that maybe someone else had taken him, because he died from dehydration several times before she finally showed her face. He laughs when he recalls how happy he had been to see her, because he thought she was there to rescue him, chuckles at how his joy was crushed when she pulled out a bow and shot three arrows into his weakened body. 

He explains it all with such detached emotion that Copley asks several times if he's really certain about the details. "I wish I could forget," is all Booker can manage. When it becomes too much, Nicky puts a stop to things with a curt “that’s enough,” adding a stern look when Copley protests. And Booker has never been more grateful for Nicky's "push me, let's see what happens" look of death. 

They leave Copley’s and Booker asks if he can have the car. Andy hands over the keys without hesitation. It's like she knows he needs some time alone. He drives around for an hour with the windows rolled down even though it's raining. He wants to feel the rain against his face and the wind in his hair, needing as many reminders as possible that's he's free. 

Nile texts when she's done sightseeing so he picks her up and listens to her chat excitedly. "Buckingham Place is made me want to vomit. Why do they need all those rooms? They don't even have half that many people living there. I went to the torture exhibit too and oh my god that stuff was disgusting! How did people watch that shit? It's like it was entertainment!"

"The French used the guillotine," Booker reminds her, "executions happened in public."

"But you didn't watch," Nile looks at him and when he doesn't dissuade her, she exclaims, "you watched people get their heads chopped off!"

"I saw Louis XVI and Marie-Antoinette get executed. Quickest way to end up on the guillotine was to stay home, especially for the big ones. They'd think you were against the Revolution."

"Jesus, y'all were nuts."

Booker shrugs, "We all get desensitized to different things depending on the century." He pulls into the parking lot of a grocery store, "tell me, what was your favourite thing about London?"

"Okay, but you can't laugh," Nile pauses and flips through the pictures on her phone,"I went to the Harry Potter train station! And then I did the set tour!" 

Booker listens attentively as she talks about Harry Potter and shows him picture after picture. He enjoys seeing London through her eyes and he's pleased that she hasn't lost her wonder for the world yet. Copley won't be happy about the social media posts, he'll probably delete most of them as soon as he finds out about her EternalDanube Instagram account, but he won't tell her that right now. 

"You can have that fucking job back," Nile tells him later, when they load the groceries into the trunk.

"What job?" Booker asks. 

"All the thankless shit you do for the team."

"Why?" Booker would love to take care of the team again, but he doesn't want Nile to feel like she has to give it up for him.

“Nicky made a fucking face when I bought the wrong ingredients for this dish he makes. Apparently, he can only make it with fresh mozzarella."

"Was it that fried zucchini thing? Yeah, don't mess with a recipe he's spent centuries perfecting."

"That's not the fucking point! And don't even get me started on Joe. He's a picky motherfucker about clothes.” She rolls her eyes, “I always bought the wrong stuff and the asshole couldn’t tell me what he didn’t like. He took what I gave him with a disappointed _oh, are these mine?_ Like he had the right to be picky when we were working.”

“Joe likes clothes,” Booker explains, feeling the need to defend him. 

“It was night! We were going straight to a safe house. No one except us would see him!” Booker looks at her then, waiting for her to catch on. Thankfully Nile is a smart kid so it doesn’t take long. “Ohhhhh, fuck my life. Nicky.” Booker laughs. “Nine hundred something years together and he still cares about what he looks like for Nicky?”

“Did something go wrong on the job?”

“Joe died.”

“Ahh, well," Booker shrugs like it makes sense. While Nile shakes her head, he continues, "if he dies, he needs to replace Nicky's memory of his dead body by looking very much alive. It works for them. I don't question the dynamics of their 900-year relationship.”

“Well then, I happily resign the position to you. You deal with their picky asses.”

So, Booker takes over the responsibilities. He shops for groceries and whatever else they need. He’s genuinely startled when they ask for his help on their next few jobs. They should be easy, but Booker is out of practice and out of sync with the team. He's used to backing up Andy, but that's Nile's role now. So instead he hovers in the back, trying cover the entire team. For his efforts, he dies three times on the same job. One of those deaths occurs when he throws himself in front of Nicky and takes several bullets to the head and neck. He wakes up in Andy's arms with Joe yelling at him. 

"We didn't bring you on these jobs to carry out your death wish," Joe tells him as they clean up. 

It wasn't his intention to die. He just didn't want to be blamed if Nicky got hurt. Booker just nods dutifully hands out the change of clothes. When Joe smiles widely at the slim fit, all-black ensemble he picked out for him, Booker feels better. Nile, however, has a different reaction. When she sees Joe smooth the clothes and smirk at Nicky, she rolls her eyes, “fuck you, Joe,” she mutters under her breath. She shoots Booker an exasperated look before going to change. 

"What's with her?" Joe asks. 

Nicky rolls his eyes, "now my heart, you didn't have encouraging reactions when Nile picked out our clothes."

"It was the wrong size!" Joe complains, "and I saw you check me out. I know you like my ass in these jeans."

"I like you no matter what you're wearing or not wearing," Nicky admits with a sly grin, "but I will say that this is much more suited to your frame." He eyes Joe's ass appreciatively and Joe waggles his eyebrows before pulling Nicky close, "but you should apologize to Nile. She tried her best." 

"Really?" Nile rolls her eyes when she sees Nicky in Joe's arms, "my clothes never made you cuddle like that."

Booker holds these moments close to this heart, tries to hang on to him when he's tormented with memories of being tortured, of waking up alone in that dark cell, of loud music and flashing lights. They live in such close quarters that it's impossible to hide the dreams from the team, not when wakes up gasping and and covered in sweat, not when he shakes and curls into himself, and especially not when he needs them to pull him back and reassure him that he's with them and not back in that cell. _Tell us_ , they insist, _tell us and maybe she’ll stop haunting you_. He refuses. He shouldn't. He can’t. He won’t. 

It's Andy and Nile who offer him the most physical comfort. They don't try to touch him anymore though, not after the last time when he was so startled that he shoved Andy off the couch. She slammed into the table and had a bruise on her arm for days. He apologized profusely first to Andy, and then the team, swearing on his wife and sons that he didn't intended to hurt her. They claim don't blame him, that they understand it was instinctual, but he doesn't believe them. The bruise on Andy’s arm takes days to fade, a constant reminder that none of them are safe when he's around. 

He tries to keep his distance from everyone after that, but he misses hanging out with Joe. He longs to watch football and yell at the players and have Nicky playfully chide them with "if you're so much better, why don't you step on the field?" He misses those silly bets with Nicky, too. He lost more bets than he won, but he'd happily hand over his life savings to laugh with Nicky again. 

"Me being here is too much for them," Booker says mournfully to Andy one day while sitting outside, "how can I miss them so much when I see them all the time? I think I miss them more now than before."

Andy reaches out her hand, hovering near his shoulder, he nods so she rubs his back. "We're all struggling with what happened in our own way. You wake up looking terrified and expect us to believe everything is okay." Booker dismisses her concerns with a wave and Andy sighs, "you should tell us when you’re ready, but will you? Will you when you didn't you tell us how often you dreamed of her drowning?"

"I thought you knew. You said we dream of each other until we meet. Quynh and I hadn't met, so," he shrugs and doesn't finish the thought.

"But 200 years! You never said anything after the first few.” She squeezes his shoulder, "that's why they can't be around you, because they look at you and see their own failures. We didn't see your suffering. I don't know. Maybe it was easier to pretend we didn't."

"What would have been the point in telling you? You couldn't make them stop. It would only hurt you to know,” he shakes his head, “it’s not like there’s a playbook for any of this.”

"We should have pushed harder.”

“It wouldn't have said anything even if you did.”

“Because you felt you couldn't trust us?”

He winces at that hurt in her voice, “I never wanted to be a burden.”

“You were never a burden.”

“I _am always_ a burden. You, Joe and Nicky, you're from a different time. You were—are—warriors. Fighting battles day after day was a regular thing for you. I get why you were chosen for this life. Me? I'm just some guy that’s good at copying shit. Nothing original about that.” 

"We couldn't have done half the shit we did without you."

"You would have figured it out."

Andy shakes her head. "Are you reluctant to tell us about what Quynh did because you still don’t want to burden us?” She sighs when Booker doesn't dissuade her. "Our neglect should not have become your burden. Give that trauma to us. It's our turn to carry it now." 

It starts to get cold so they go back inside. Andy touches his arm and he hugs her. He won't agree to what she's asking but if letting her believe that he will can ease some of her guilt, he'll let her believe it. 

Andy retreats to her room while Nicky makes supper. Joe and Nile are out training. It's quiet in the house and one of those rare evenings when Booker has nothing to do. He opens a beer and and is about to turn on the TV when Joe and Nile rush inside. Nile is out of breath. 

“We found her! We fucking found her.”

Joe slams several sketches on the table. “Nile started dreaming about Quynh again. I sketched them but we couldn’t figure it out. Then, finally last night, we did.” He moves the drawings around the table, “Dublin. Quynh is in Dublin,” he points at corner of one drawing, “she was holding your wedding ring.”

 _Oh_. Booker shakes his head, “it’s a trap. She wanted Nile to see the ring.”

Nicky agrees, “maybe so, but if she wanted us to see it, that means she wants us there. We have to go.”

It takes a day for Copley to set up a house, vehicles, and a charter flight to Dublin. Andy makes them prep as if they’re going to war. She talks about Quynh’s archery skills, the way she moves in battle, how she plans three steps ahead, how she'll attempt to divide them. She explains that they can’t go in try to take Quynh, they need to convince Quynh to come with them. “We have one chance at this. If we're too hasty, she’ll take off. We may never see her again.”

Two days after they get to Dublin, Nile dreams of the Howth Cliffs. 

It's a windy when they get there and Quynh's long hair blows gently in the wind. She's standing by a fire and the light from the flames dance off her body, giving her an effervescent glow. Despite everything she's done to him, Booker thinks she looks beautiful. He hopes this vision will one day replace the ones of her trapped in that iron coffin, of her laughing as she hacked away at his body. 

She greets them with a soft smile, stretches out her hand to Andy, nodding once when Andy refuses to acknowledge her greeting. 

"Why are we here?" Andy looks out into the ocean. 

"I wanted to see my love again," Quynh takes a step closer to Andy, but Joe and Nicky put their bodies between them. Quynh sighs, "the years have only made you more beautiful Andromache.”

"You took something that belongs to Booker. We'd like it back."

"Ohh, what was that? His eyeballs, his hands, his dignity?” Quynh pats her pockets, “I didn’t bring those with me.”

Andy sighs, "we’re not here to play games."

"I waited for you to rescue me for 500 years. You can give me a few minutes, can you not?" Quynh looks out into the ocean, "for 300 years, I held you in my heart, because you promised you'd look for me. I drowned over and over and told myself 'be patient, your family will rescue you.' Then, I dreamed of baby Booker and it gave me such hope! I looked forward to my dreams of him because it meant I could finally see you and Yusef and Nicolò again. I would finally see my family looking for me. But you weren't, were you? By the time you found baby Booker, you had already stopped."

“We tried!" Andy cries out, "we died over and over trying to find you."

"How long did it take for you to forget about me?”

"I never forgot about you. I thought of you every single day."

"How long did you look? Was it even one year? Two?

"We looked for decades. Do you have any idea how vast the ocean is? It was impossible."

"Do not lecture me on the size of the ocean," Qunyh yells. "It's really dark down there, did you know? There was no light. It was just me and curious ocean creatures. Did you know that sharks are relentless when they smell blood? I would slam my fists against those bars over and over and over trying to break them. When I woke, my blood was still fresh and the sharks would slam their snouts against the coffin, _bang, bang, bang_. Water would fill my lungs. It would burn my eyes and flood my ears and I could still hear them _. Bang, bang, bang._ ”

“I'm so sorry,” Andy mumbles. 

"It hurt when I realized you gave up on me Andromache." Quynh pulls out Booker's wedding ring and photos, "if you want these back, baby Booker, you have to pick. The ring or the photos. I can't let you have both. You have to pay for Copenhagen."

“What happened in Copenhagen?” Andy asks. 

“Booker,” Quynh admonishes, “you didn’t tell them? I thought you’d have learned about lying by now.”

“I didn't lie.”

“You lied to me!" Quynh stomps her food, “you lied about that house.”

Joe stares at Booker wide-eyed, “the Copenhagen safe house? We thought that place was compromised. We rigged it with C4.”

“He said you'd be there," Quynh seethes, "I did not enjoy getting blown to bits.”

"Is that why you hate me?" Booker asks, "because I got brains and blood on your new Chanel jacket?" 

"I don’t hate you. You're insignificant. None of this has ever been about you." She holds out the ring and the photos, "now pick or you won't get either."

"Quynh," Nicky steps forward, "please don’t punish him because we abandoned you. Booker had no part in that decision."

"Sweet, sweet Nicky. My methods may seem unorthodox, but I'm not punishing him."

"Coudda fool me," Booker mumbles.

She ignores him. "I'm doing this because for the rest of your many lives, the three of you will have to look at him and look at each other and know that everything that has and will happen is solely because of your neglect."

"You must try to see it from our perspective," Nicky tries to reason, "we searched and searched and searched. We hired people to help, people who lost their lives. We captured the some of the people who took you. They would not reveal where they had taken you. Not even death would persuade them." 

She steps towards Nicky and Booker steps closer to Nicky, tightening his hands around his gun. Quynh raises her hands on mock surrender. “Look Nicolò, look at how baby Booker is ready to defend you.”

“Booker is my brother and I am his. We will defend you as our sister if you come with us.”

“And what fate awaits me when I don’t meet your standards? One century of exile, two? Or since time alone won’t bother me, will you find a different way to punish me?” 

“There are no words to express our sorrow for your suffering. What can we do?" Nicky pleads, "what do you want?”

“What if I said that I want to throw your beloved into an underwater cell for 500 years?” 

"Revenge won't bring you the peace you desire."

"You would have me choose compassion over punishment?" Quynh mocks.

"I believe in compassion, yes."

“But not always right?” She looks at Booker. “Are you aware that, in his compassion, your brother wanted to exile you for 500 years? Yusef had to talk him down 100.” Booker flinches but he doesn't back down. Quynh smirks, "stupid, little puppy. You'll preen over any affection from your masters, even when they treat you like you're nothing?"

"Enough of this shit," Nile points her gun at Quynh. 

“Ohh you're feisty. I like you.”

“Feeling's not mutual, you fucking psycho.”

"You are too precious!" Quynh claps her hands.

"Quynh," Andy says Qunyh's name solemnly, like it pains her to speak her name, "why are you doing this?"

"I learned a lot about you when I dreamt of Booker," Quynh smiles at Andy, "You may be mortal now but physical pain won’t hurt you. I need to hurt you the way you hurt me Andromache. The only way I can do that is by destroying Booker's love for you. I want him to look at you with contempt and hate."

"I will never hate Andy," Booker states, "I will never hate any of them."

“We’ll see,” Quynh dismisses his declaration with a wave. "I could never figure out why Andromache loved you so. The affection she feels for you is nothing like her affection for Joe and Nicky, even Nile. I think it's because they didn't make her feel needed," she looks at Andy, "it's very selfish to love being needed, isn't it?" 

"Andy's one of the least selfish people I've ever known," Booker says. 

"Such a puppy," Quynh holds out the ring and photographs, "have you chosen yet?"

Booker looks at the ring he's had since he was 18 and the photos of his family. _Rings can be replaced_ , he remembers Nicky's words and points at the photographs. 

"Tsk tsk. Andromache, your little puppy picked useless pieces of paper over something that's pretty and gold? I expected you would have taught him better. How shameful." Quynh whips her arm back and flings the ring into the ocean. She leers at Booker then and smiles at Andy. “I’m sorry baby Booker. You made the wrong choice.”

Andy shakes her head and looks at Quynh, “please, my love, don’t do this. It's all he has left of his family."

"You lost the right to call me that when you abandoned our love." With that, Quynh tosses the photos into the fire. Booker runs over and sticks his hands in the flames, trying to pull photographs. He grabs most them and puts out the embers with his hands. "Ta-ta, I'll see all of you soon," Quynh waves. Then she leaps up, arches her back, and beautifully swan dives into the ocean.

Andy tries follow but Nile tackles her to the ground. Andy trashes and screams, "let me go after her. I can catch her."

"You really think you can take on Quynh in the ocean? She knows it better than any of us ever will. Let her go," Nile squeezes Andy's arm, "we'll regroup and figure out a different way to bring her in."

Andy shakes her head, "it's over. You've met now. You won't dream of her anymore."

"We don't need some lame ass dreams to get shit done," She waits until the tension eases from Andy's body before standing and offering her hand. Andy takes it and Nile pulls her up. 

They travel back to the safe house in silence. Booker clutches the ruined photos to his chest. He feels like he's lost his family all over again. As soon as they get to the house, he presses the photos between the pages of his books, trying to preserve them as best he can. 

"Can you fix them?" Nicky inquires as he sits beside Booker on the floor. 

"Dunno. I need to scan them, see what I can do in Photoshop," Booker frowns, "how long was it before you stopped remembering what your family looked like?”

“Their faces are a distant memory now, but the love I felt for them and the love I felt from them are not. It remains in my heart as I'm sure it will for you.” They sit in silence for a few minutes before Nicky sighs. "Sebastien," Booker looks up when he hears his given name. Nicky often uses their first first names for moments like this. _Sebastien. Andromache. Yusef._ "I want to explain about what Quynh told you. About the 500 years." 

"That's not necessary."

"But I want to," Nicky insists.

"Because you're looking for absolution?" He squeezes a book between his hands, hoping the pressure will uncurl the photo from his wedding day. "Why do you get to justify your side of things when you didn't allow me that opportunity?" He regrets it as soon as he says it. He regrets it even more when he sees the hurt on Nicky's face, when tears well up in Nicky's kind eyes. "I'm sorry," Booker stammers, "I didn't mean that. I'm upset and had no right to take that out on you."

"It's okay," Nicky murmurs, "I would hate me if I were you."

Booker sighs, "I meant what I said back there. I will never hate any of you."

"Why not?" Nicky asks, "how can you stand to look at any of us?”

"You're not responsible for my choices or Quynh's actions." 

"But I am responsible for my inactions, whether intentional or not. I am responsible for failing to acknowledge your pain."

"Andy talked to you," Booker knows he has no right, but he feels betrayed.

"She only told us that you hold back, that you held things back, for fear of being a burden."

"This isn't easy for me. I'm only here until we can figure out what to do about Quynh. I'll be on my own after that. I need to," Booker hesitates not wanting to add to Nicky's guilt, "I need to figure out how to deal with this on my own." 

"Is that why you won't allow me to explain?"

"My forgiveness won't mean anything until you find a way to forgive yourself. I can't absolve your guilt, Nicky, just as you can’t absolve me of mine."

Nicky doesn't say anything for a while. There's something Booker has always found comforting about silently sitting next to Nicky. This feels different though. He can feel Nicky thinking. When Nicky extends a hand to Booker, Booker takes it and Nicky nods, "perhaps you and I can work on forgiveness together."

The rest of the team joins them with food and alcohol. Booker takes a large sip of Whisky and looks out the window. "It's not your fault," he tells them when he feels them looking at him. He looks at Andy then, "you know that it's also okay that you still love her, right?"

"Is it though?" Andy looks unconvinced.

"You can love her and hate what she did, even what she may do," he rubs the naked ring finger on his left hand, "and she can say awful things to you that you'll never forget and you can still hang on to the love you shared."

"I never knew that was your wedding ring," Nile says, "how old is it?"

"It’s almost 238 years old. Was,” he corrects. "I bought it with forged money."

Nile gapes at him. "And your wife was okay with that?"

"Simone practically demanded it. When she figured out I was going to ask her father for her hand, she reminded me that she knew who she was marrying. Then, she demanded rings that represented the depth of my love for her." Booker smiles at the memory. “Her brains and self-confidence were what I loved most about her.” 

"She sounds remarkable."

"She was."

"Nicky and I were thinking about spending some time in Paris," Joe says casually when they sit in silence for a few minutes. 

“Okay," Booker nods, "give me a couple days I’ll find you a place."

“Find _us_ a place,” Joe corrects, “we're all going, you included," he pauses and looks at Nicky who nods once. "No more talk of exile either. We’re done with that shit. We're family. We stay together.”

It’s the first anyone has said his exile is off the table since he's been back and Booker presses his face into his hands and starts to cry. He realizes it’s the first time he’s cried since he rejoined the team. He sheds tears for everything he's been through since he was exiled, he grieves for what he just lost, and he mourns for Andy, Joe and Nicky because he knows they're forever changed by what happened with Quynh. This time, it’s Joe and Nicky who take him in their arms and he cries in relief as he holds them close. Booker won't pretend to know what absolution feels like, but he's pretty sure this is a close as he'll ever get. 

They open a bottle of champagne and Nicky pours a glass for each of them. He nuzzles his face into Joe's neck and Andy makes a face. 

“Remind me again, why did I agree Paris in the spring?" she asks.

"You like French women?" Joe laughs, "and Paris is lovely in springtime."

"Paris is in the spring makes Joe act extra romantic," Andy explains when Nile looks confused.

"Which makes Nicky super horny," Booker chuckles.

“Horny is such a vulgar word,” Nicky makes a face, “I simply show my appreciation for the love of my life’s romantic overtures.” 

“Many times,” Joe winks, “many, many ways.”

Nicky blushes and Andy and Booker roar with laughter. Joe shrugs and kisses Nicky’s cheek. "I feel no shame. Paris is for lovers." They stand and Nicky allows Joe to pull him into their bedroom. Joe sneaks back and grabs what’s left of the champagne.

“Fuck me, they’re getting started early,” Andy bemoans. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry, that was a rough one!  
> Quynh is going to go away for a while to plot her next move so we won't hear from her for a while. The next few chapters will be a little lighter. Booker deserves a break, doesn't he?


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Booker felt better for a few days. Then, that familiar dark cloud came back. He tries to hide it from the team. He worries they'll misinterpret how he's acting as him being disloyal. So he laughs at Joe's silly jokes, teases Nile, makes bets with Nicky, and spends time with Andy. He drags himself through his responsibilities and does his best to keep his emotions at bay.

Since France was one of Quynh's favourite countries, Andy wants to settle there for a while so they can be close in case Quynh makes her way over. Booker finds them a place and sends the location information to Copley to get it set up with security cameras. Working with someone else on the team's security is a new thing for him and he's not entirely comfortable trusting the team's safety to someone as young as Copley. 

"I'm 46 you know," Copley grumbles when Booker grills him about the security measures during one of their weekly video calls, "I've been working in security since I was 21." 

"And I'm 255," Booker counters.

"Two hundred and fifty-five!" Copley sputters. He takes off his glasses and rub his forehead, "two hundred and fifty fucking five! How old are --"

"That's for them to tell you," Booker interrupts, he won't entertain any questions about his family, "if they want."

When Booker is satisfied with Copley's security, they head to Paris where he busies himself watching the video feeds. He wants to keep a close eye on things for a few days to be sure that their arrival hasn't caught anyone's attention. Maybe he's being overly cautious, Copley's watching the feeds too after all, but the last time they were in France Joe and Nicky were captured because of him and Booker feels the need to prove how hard he's working to keep everyone safe. 

He brushes off the team's suggestion to watch the feeds on a rotating shift. It's easy to reject Andy, Joe and Nicky's offers of help; he just slides his laptop over and asks them to switch through the different camera angles. They can't of course, never having adapted to this kind of technology. It's petty, and he feels a pang of regret for making them feel incompetent, but he doesn't want any of them to know how little he's sleeping.

Nile isn't as easy though. She's good with tech and is hyper-aware of why he's refusing their assistance. "I know what you're doing," she accuses when he turns down her help two nights in a row. When he feigns ignorance, she sighs heavily, "my mother was depressed after my dad died. She couldn't sleep either."

"I get dressed every day, I work," he waves a hand at his laptop, "I get groceries and whatever else everyone needs. I'm not lying around doing nothing."

"My mother," she stresses, "worked two jobs, she took care of me and my brother, she ran the household, paid the bills, went to our after school activities, and helped us with our homework. She was still drowning. I saw it in her eyes. I see it in yours too."

"Not sure what you want me to say here."

"You're not just going to wake up one day and feel better about all the shit that's been bothering you all this time."

"Yeah?" he looks away from the screen to look at her. He crosses his arms for measure, "and what do you suggest?"

"My mother went on anti-depressants, she saw a therapist. It took time, it didn't help with the grief, but it improved her outlook on life."

"Pills don't work on us. Our bodies flush it out before anything can really happen. I'd need a dosage that no doctor would ever prescribe. As for therapy, how would that work? I can't really talk about my wife and sons. I can't talk about anything without putting us at risk. And, you know how this team feels about doctors."

"You can't just pretend you're okay. You can't go on like this." 

"I have to live with this, whatever this is. I've done it for two centuries, a millennium or however long I've got will be piece of cake."

"This isn't living," she counters, "why won't you let us help you? Why won't you talk to us? God you're so fucking frustrating." When he doesn't say anything, Nile rubs her forehead, "you think you're hiding it but we see that you're struggling. Your feelings are valid, Booker."

After talking with Nile, he decides to go to the cemetery where his family is buried. He hasn't been there in nearly 60 years -- he can't visit as often as he would like, in case someone recognizes him -- and ever since the incident with Quynh, he feels the need to reconnect with them. So he reroutes the video feeds to his phone and buys a train ticket to Marseille. Nile tries to go with him, insisting they take a team field trip until Andy takes her aside to explain that this is something he's always done alone. It's not personal. He just always kept his mortal and immortal families separate.

His family is buried in a large cemetery beside some large oak trees that have grown monumentally since he was last here. He brushes a few dead leaves from their graves and puts flowers on each of their headstones: his mother and father, his brothers and their wives, and his sons and their wives. He sets out a toy for each of his grandchildren. Though they were all grown and had families of their own when they passed, to him they’ll always be the toddlers that called him grandpapa and tried to climb him like a tree. To him, they'll always be the children they were the last time he saw them. 

He looks at the plot beside his wife. It was intended to be his but now holds the body of his wife's older sister. Immortality has taken so much from him, it’s only fitting it would also take his final resting place beside his wife. He kneels at his wife's headstone and breaks down when he tells her that he lost his wedding ring and apologizes for breaking the vow that he would always keep it close. “Forgive me,” he begs, “I should have chosen our ring. I was terrified of forgetting your faces. You were right about me; I am weak. ” 

When he gets back to Paris, there's a large white envelope on his bed. There’s no card, no note, and he looks around his room in confusion. He sits on the bed and carefully opens the envelope. It contains a small stack of papers. He pulls them out and gasps at the four carefully drawn sketches of his family.

"I tried the best I could," Joe nervously lingers at the door to his room, "I'm not sure if it looks like them. The photos were damaged and a bit grainy. It was hard to make out some of their faces."

Booker smiles softly as he flips through Joe's sketches. "Thank you, Joe. These are beautiful."

"It was Nicky's idea when you couldn't fix them. They’re laminated. We also scanned them and sent everything to Copley to save wherever it is he saves shit. So there's no chance of them getting lost again."

“You used a laminator and a scanner?” Booker doesn't try to hide his disbelief.

Joe chuckles, “okay, okay, you got me. We tried, yelled, almost threw the fucking things out of the store window, and yelled some more. Nile ended up doing it before the employees kicked us out.”

“That sounds more like it.” 

Booker lingers over one of the sketches and Joe joins him on the bed. "Tell me about this one."

"It was the first time all of us posed for a photograph together," Booker smiles at the memory, "you had to stand there forever before the photographer finally took it. You can't tell because no one smiled in photos back then, but we were really excited to have an official family portrait."

"When was it taken?"

"I don't remember," Booker replies, "but Simone started to notice that she was aging faster than I was. She laughed about it at first, joked that living with four men aged her, but then she realized I wasn't getting older at all. Look," he points at one of his sons, "I look younger than my oldest." He sets the sketches on his pillow and looks out his bedroom window. He goes to twist his wedding ring, something he's always done when he feels sad, and when he feels the ring isn't there, remembers _why_ it isn't there, he winces. 

"I'm sorry," Joe stammers when he sees the look on Booker's face, "I didn't mean to make you sad."

"You didn't," Booker touches the sketches, "these are wonderful. It's just hard remembering some of this sometimes." 

"Nile says you're depressed. We didn't ... this wasn't a thing that was talked about in my time. I've been reading about it though," Joe shrugs, "I've read a lot about it actually. You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I'm not sure how to explain any of this."

"Well, how do you feel?"

Booker sighs, "sometimes, I feel like I'm not here."

Joe squeezes his arm, squeezes it so hard that if Booker didn't have accelerated healing, Joe's fingers would have left red marks on his arm. "You are though. You are here." 

Booker chews his bottom lip, "you remember that movie we watched, _The Lovely Bones_?" He looks at Joe, who nods. "I feel like that young girl sometimes. Like I'm hovering, like I'm watching all of you live."

"We ... _I_ don't know how to help you," Joe sounds sad. 

"I don't even know what I need how can I expect anyone else to know?" Booker rubs his eyes, "you think I like feeling this way? I fucking hate it." 

"The books ... they suggest exercise. You could try running every morning instead of drinking," Joe points at the flask in Booker's hand, "I'll run with you."

"I hate running. _You_ hate running unless you're running from someone or towards someone."

"Okay fair point. So we go for walks around here in the mornings."

Booker looks at him, "what like a couple of old people? Are we going to count our steps?"

"I'm trying here," Joe sighs deeply, "and you have to be willing to try something."

"You don't need worry, Joe. It's not like I can actually kill myself."

"But if you could, would you?"

"I'm not going to looking for a scientist to figure out how to reverse our immortality, if that's what you're implying," Booker snaps.

Joe sighs, “you remember what you said to me in that lab?” Of course Booker remembers. It’s one of the biggest regrets in his life. Booker looks at Joe and nods. “You were right. I _have_ always had Nicky. I know I got lucky. This life though, I don’t want to experience it without you either. I know what it was like without you. It wasn’t good Book. We need you. _I_ need you.”

“I’m here Joe, I’m not going anywhere.”

“That’s just it. It doesn’t feel like you are though. I feel you slipping away and I don't know how to hold you back.”

"What do you want from me? You gonna get me whatever fucking pills those books say will help? Are you gonna get me a therapist, you all gonna let me tell an outsider about this life we lead?"

Joe tilts his head, "I wish we could. You have no idea how badly I wish we could. Since our bodies can't heal from this we have to figure it out on our own," Joe looks at him thoughtfully, "So seven a.m. tomorrow. Twenty minutes; we walk. You don't even need to talk if you don't want to. All I'm asking is that you get up, get outside, and walk."

Booker agrees, but mostly because Joe is not a morning person. Booker he can't see him willingly crawling out of bed, especially with Nicky lying beside him, just to walk around the property. 

So, Booker is really disgruntled when Joe pulls the sheets off his bed at 6:50 the next morning. Booker reluctantly gets out of bed and ruffles Joe's unruly hair, which earns him a grunt. Booker never fails to be amused by Joe's confusion in the morning. He laughs when Joe stumbles around the kitchen trying to figure out how to make coffee using the French press. He takes pity though and shoves Joe out of the way to make the coffee himself. 

And so it goes. A sleepy-looking Joe drags Booker out of bed every morning. Booker grumbles, whines, or curses at Joe. He makes coffee, and then they walk. Sometimes they talk about the football game from the previous night, or a book they're reading, sometimes they don't talk at all. He starts looking forward to their morning walks, which annoys him. He's further irritated when, one morning, he gets out of bed and makes the coffee before Joe is awake. He doesn't realize he's doing all of it until Joe greets him in the kitchen. 

Joe takes the cup of coffee Booker hands him. Joe sips and the coffee and smirks, "you're already up."

"Don't gloat Joe, it's unbecoming of a man your age."

One afternoon, they decide to spend the day in Paris. They all have plans of their own and Booker is looking forward to checking out some of his favourite spots in the city. He hasn't been to Paris since his exile and he spent those six months drinking. His first stop is a bookstore that opened before WWII. The first owners relentlessly tried to set him up with their daughters until he mentioned he was a widower. They remained fond of him though, and often set aside rare editions for his personal collection. He considered buying the place, back when he dreamed of a simple life where he could spend his days talking about and selling books, but Andy vetoed that idea. “We don't get to have things like that Booker. You could only keep it for 10, maybe 15 years before people started to notice that you didn't age. It could never be a permanent thing.” 

A bell dings when Booker opens the door and a young man waves when he steps inside. He nods and then walks up and down the aisles, taking in the comforting smell of books. He thumbs through some new releases by a few authors he likes and spends an exorbitant amount some books on French poetry and first editions of _The Hobbit_ , _To the Lighthouse_ , and _Madame Bovary_. He picks up some books in Italian and Arabic for Nicky and Joe and puts a few additional books on order. 

He sits on on the grass in front of the Eiffel Tower and flips through the poetry book while watching tourists. Their first reactions to seeing Eiffel Tower for the first time never cease to make him smile. It wasn't completed until 1889, long after his wife and sons had died, and he often wonders how they would have reacted to it. When he saw first it, he was too depressed, too angry to enjoy it, so caught up in pain that he couldn't see beauty in anything. 

He's gathering up his books when he sees the situation play out before him. It's like it happens in slow motion, but doesn't have the ability to stop it. A teenager loses control of her skateboard and it rolls out of her reach. A woman wearing headphones and holding a cup of coffee is looking at her phone. The skateboard rolls directly into her path, she steps forward, makes a startled face, and starts to fall. She's close enough that Booker reaches out to grab her arm to keep her from falling into the sidewalk. For his efforts, her coffee cup smashes into his chest and coffee splatters all over his face, neck, and shirt. 

He helps her stand and hands the skateboard to the kid who mumbles an apology before running away. "Fuck me, I thought that was it for me." The woman rummages through her purse and hands him some Kleenex, "who knew walking would be so hard?"

“I think that might just be you."

She looks him up and down twice and shrugs, "well, I guess we all can't be tall coordinated Adonises." 

Booker laughs, "trust me, I'm not that coordinated."

"I guess I just need to learn to watch where I'm going."

"Lucky for me you didn’t."  
  
She raises an eyebrow and takes off her sunglasses. She can't be taller than 5'2" so she has to look up at him, "are you flirting with me?" 

_Was he?_ He wasn't sure. With long curly black hair and big grey eyes, she was certainly beautiful. When he hesitates, she clutches her heart dramatically, "your silence wounds my fragile ego."

"I hardly doubt your ego is fragile, lack of coordination aside."

"Now I'm convinced you're flirting with me and I'm not sure what that says about you when I've ruined," she points at the loose threads on his shirt, "what I can only assume is your favourite shirt."

"Not only my favourite," he smoothes it down for emphasis, "but also my best."

"Well now, I have to get you a new shirt. I guaranteed you'll love it so much that you'll never take it off."

He tries to refuse, says he was only joking about the shirt, but she insists. He can't explain why he follows her to a coffee shop, he's not sure why he waits for her either. He really doesn't want to smell like the mix of coffee and whatever sugary syrup was mixed in that drink, but it's not like he can't go out and get his own shirt, but his curiosity gets the better of him. After 15 minutes, he's convinced that she isn't coming back, when she rushes in with a couple shopping bags.

"I'm Lily by the way," she sit in the chair across from him, "I realized after I left that I never introduced myself." 

"Booker."

"That doesn't sound very French."

"It's a nickname. My name is Sebastien but no one really calls me that." She hands him the shopping bag. He takes it and raises an eyebrow, "why do I have the feeling I'm going to regret this?"

"Are you questioning my motives, Booker?"

He peeks in the bag and confirms that he was indeed right to question her motives. It's a black shirt with _J’aime Paris_ in scripted white lettering across the front. Instead of the letter A in Paris, there's a sketch of the Eiffel Tower. Lily laughs when Booker shakes his head and leaves the bag on the table. "Fuck no, I'm not wearing this."

"Oh come on," she teases, "what did you expect I was going to get? We're right by all the shops that sell these shirts."

"There's a regular clothing store around the corner," Booker holds up the shirt in disgust, "you got this hideous thing on purpose."

"Guilty," she chuckles, "do I at least get points for getting you the least offensive one?"

"Remind me why I stopped you from face planting into the sidewalk again?"

"Karma points?"

"How many points do I get if I wear this shirt?"

"I'm no expert on karma," Lily purses her lips, "but it has to be at least a thousand."

He gets them coffee and pastries and they sit and talk. She's also from France, was raised by a single mother and has no siblings. She's a doctor with Doctors Without Borders and treats mostly refugees and migrants. A lot of her patients are children who don’t know where their parents are or saw their parents die while trying to escape. She tells him she's spent most of the last ten years living outside France, returning home recently to continue her work in Paris. Booker listens to her talk with rapt attention. He's always been fascinated by mortals who want to make the world a better place. She has no special powers of any kind, she's a fragile human, and yet she feels it's her duty to help people. 

"I love my job," she explains, "but I wish there wasn't a need for it, you know? I wonder if humans will ever get their shit together and stop being assholes to each other." 

"I'm sorry," he tells her, because he truly is and because there's not much else to say. He knows better than most that people have always been assholes to each other and they won't stop. 

He tells her he works with family in private security. It's their go-to whenever anyone asks what they do and he feels slightly embarrassed talking about something so self-centred when she's putting so much good into the world on a daily basis. She doesn't judge him though, asks him if he gets to travel and go to fancy dinners. He tells her about a few of them he's attended, leaving out key details, like that one was in 1875, another in the Roaring 20s, and that another, at the Dior fashion house, actually happened in 1947 where he met Christian Dior. 

"So," she asks him after a while, "are you going to wear the shirt?"

He shakes his head, "I think I'd rather smell like coffee for the rest of the day."

"It's coffee and caramel syrup," she corrects with a laugh, "and come on, where's your sense of fun?"

Booker makes a disgusted face, "that's easy for you to say, you don't have to wear this."

"Ahh, well I figured you say that. That's why I also bought this." She takes an Eiffel Tower hat out of the second bag and puts it on her head. The Eiffel Tower is positioned crookedly on the hat so it looks like it's coming out of the side of her head. 

Booker takes one look at her and can't help it. He starts to laugh. He hunches over in his seat to try to catch his breath, only to start laughing when he looks at her again. "You look ridiculous."

"I'll wear this if you wear the shirt." 

"It's much easier for you to take off that hat than for me to take off this shirt."

"I promise I won't take it off," she crosses her heart, "and I'll even buy us some wine."

 _Well._ It's the promise of wine that convinces him. He changes in the coffee shop bathroom and stuffs his dirty shirt into his bag. It's a warm day and though he would like to hide in an empty bar for the rest of the day to avoid being seen in this shirt by anyone, Lily wants to spend the day in a park since she spends most of her days inside. They get wine and a baguette and some cheese and sit on a blanket in a park. 

He shows her the books he bought and they have a delightful conversation about _To the Lighthouse_. He rarely gets to talk about books and writing styles (Nicky would to indulge him sometimes) and he finds himself enjoying her company. Lily flips through the poetry book while he watches a young father chase his son around the park. The child's joyous laughter cuts through the white noise of the crowd. 

"I was married," he offers when he feels Lily looking at him look at the family, "she passed."

"I'm sorry," she says, "how did she die?" It was the first wave of cholera that took her but he can't tell her that. "You know what," Lily shakes her head, "never mind. That's none of my business. I had no right to ask that."

"That's okay. She just got really sick. She didn't suffer long, thankfully." 

"It doesn't matter if it's quick or a long illness," Lily says and Booker wonders if she's speaking from personal experience or experience as a doctor, "it's still painful to watch our loved ones die. I'm a doctor, I should be used to death, but it never gets easier."

"No one should get used to death, especially the people entrusted with our health and safety," he says, "you speak about death like you have personal experience with it."

"I was engaged. He died in a car accident. It was raining, the road was slippery and he lost control. No one to blame, no illness. He was just there one day, and then poof he wasn't," she shakes her head, "and I was working in Haiti when my mother was diagnosed with cancer. It was so advanced by then that she had a few months to live. I moved back and stayed with her until she died last year." 

"Cancer took my youngest son. He suffered for a long time before he died."

"I'm sorry for your loss," she says.

“As I am for yours," he replies. "How do you go on when you've experienced so much loss? I buried a wife and three sons. There are days when I want to burn the world to the ground and other days when I wonder what I did wrong in life to be forced to outlive them."

"I can't imagine how it feels to lose your children. Parents aren't supposed to bury their children."

"No," he agrees, "we're not."

"Some days I run on auto-pilot," she explains, "sometimes it's challenging just to put one foot in front of the other. On those days, I try to remember that my mother loved me, my fiancé loved me. They wouldn't want me to drown in grief. I try to live for them." She shrugs and then smiles, "other days are like this. I meet someone unexpected and have a little fun."

Lily looks at the time on her phone and explain that she has to work the next day. Since Booker needs to meet the team, they get up to gather their belongings. He's dusting off the blanket while Lily is throwing away their trash when he sees Nicky watching him, a slight smile playing at his lips. 

"Hey," Booker waves, "what are you doing here?"

Nicky holds up a box, "I wanted to get pastries from that bakery you mentioned." Nicky looks at him, looks down at Booker's shirt, and smirks. 

"Fuck my life," Booker curses under his breath. He forgot about the fucking shirt. 

“Hello,” Lily waves. She picks up her purse, “I’m Lily.”

Booker sighs. "Lily, this is Nicky.”

"I’m Booker's brother,” Nicky offers.

“Brother?” She raises an eyebrow. 

“Same father different mother,” Booker and Nicky say at the same time. 

Booker is just about to ask Nicky if he can have a moment alone with Lily when Nicky takes out his phone and snaps a picture of Booker. _No fucking way._ "Give me the fucking phone, Nicky," Booker demands as he tries to grab it. Nicky shoves it in his pocket and jumps out of his way. "You dick," Booker shoves Nicky's shoulder, "delete that." 

"Okay," Nicky opens his phone and chortles. 

Booker knows that laugh can't mean anything good, "don't you dare send that to anyone."

"You know how I am with these things," Nicky shrugs, "delete, send to all contacts, it's all the same to me."

"You fucking shit," Booker mutters when his phone starts pinging, "I'm going to get you for this."

Nicky waves his head in the direction of the car, "you can tell me how on the way to the car. You know how hangry Nile gets when she doesn't eat on time." Nicky smiles at Lily, "it was nice to meet you Lily." He nods and walks over to a flower vendor a few feet away. 

"Family, huh?" Lily laughs. 

Booker rolls his eyes. "So .. I'd like you see you again, unless I'm in prison for murdering him." He shoves his hands into his pockets, "but I should be honest. I'm not sure what this is. I just know that I like your company."

"Booker, relax. We just met," she asks for his phone and types in her number. He texts back so she has his, "I had fun today too."

"Okay," he nods. He turns to leave and then turns back and hugs her. "I'll call you," he promises. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Be like Booker. Support your local independent bookstore. ☺️


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Booker glares at Nicky, “why did you have to send a picture to everyone?” He scowls when Nicky shrugs. "I will get you back for this," he warns. 

Nicky dismisses his threat with a wave, like he knows there's no bite behind Booker's words, "remember that one year we pranked each other? When was that?"

"Eight-two, eighty-four? I just remember you put purple hair dye in my shampoo."

Nicky smirks, "I don't know why you shaved it down to a buzz cut."

"My. Hair. Was. Purple." 

"It looked punk rock," Nicky chuckles, "very fitting for the time."

"Why did we stop again?"

"Joe got mad when you put mentos in the ice cubes."

"Oh yeah. He was going to kill me until you jumped in front of me," Booker laughs at the memory. "Who knew a priest could be so good at pranks?"

" _Former_ priest. And I had older brothers."

" _I_ had older brothers," Booker reminds him. 

"Yeah, but I wasn't a momma's boy," Nicky teases, "I dunno. Sometimes I think she knew before I did and that's why she insisted I become a priest. She believed she had to save my soul."

"Shit, I'm sorry."

"Nah, because of that I wasn't alone when I found out I couldn't die. It led me to Joe."

"Can't be mad about that I guess."

"If your sons were gay would you have loved them any less?"

"I hope not," Booker remarks, "it was a different time and I'm looking at things the way I see them now. I hope I something like who they love wouldn't change that."

"Well, Joe and I meant nothing to you when we met and you accepted us."

"That's mostly because Joe declared his eternal love for you when we met. He's terrifying when he gets like that."

"He's an incurable romantic." 

Booker pauses when he sees Joe, Nile, and Andy waiting by the car. They have huge smiles on their faces and wave at him wildly. Nile giggles and takes another picture and Booker grabs the phone from her hand and hastily deletes it. "I'm only going to say this once," he says as they climb into the car, "anyone who doesn't immediately delete any pictures of me in this shirt, anyone who asks about the shirt or makes a comment about the shirt will get the most hideous change of clothes on our several jobs."

When they get home, he changes and shoves the shirt under his bed. He's well into several chapters of a new book when Nile knocks on his door. He waves her in and she sits on the end of his bed and plays with the blanket. He watches her for a bit before going back to his book. 

"Soooo,” she says eventually, “what's with the shirt?"

He doesn't look up. "Coffee was spilled it."

"And _that's_ what you picked?"

"What did Nicky tell you?"

"Nothing, just that he saw you wearing the shirt and took a picture."

He's surprised that Nicky didn't say anything. "I don't want you to make a bit deal out of this, okay? A woman spilled coffee on my shirt, she insisted on getting me a new one, and we spent the afternoon together." 

"Huh," Nile nods slowly and turns away but he can tell she's smiling, "what's her name?"

"Lily." 

"What do you like about her?"

Booker closes his book with a heavy sigh, "Nile, what is this? What are you doing?"

"My friends and I used to go for drinks and talk about who we liked. I didn't realize I missed it until now.”

"What makes you think I want to have this conversation?"

Nile gives him that look that always makes him relent to whatever she wants. "Fine," he sighs, "what would you like to know?"

“Don't take this the wrong way but you've always seemed to be a bit of a loner. I didn't know you talked to people outside of us. Fuck, I was pretty sure you didn't even like people."

"Your point?"

"Why'd you spend the afternoon with her?”

"We talked about books and stuff."

"What stuff?"

"Stuff, Nile."

"Oh-kay, are you gonna text her?"

"I'll call tomorrow."

"Oh no. No no NO. See? This is why we need to talk! No one calls anymore. It's weird."

"Fine," he rolls his eyes, "I'll text."

"Can I help you figure out what to say?"

"I'm not completely useless at communication."

“Okay, okay. Sorry," Nile apologizes as she looks down at her hands. 

"Why are you being like this? This is excessive especially for you."

"All we've thought about for the last six years is Quynh and then we found you and well ... these last several years have been high-stress. This is just something fun to focus on for a while."

"Shit, you really need to get a life of your own."

"I'm trying but Copley keeps deleting my Tinder profile."

"You know you can't have your picture online."

"So how the fuck do I meet people then?"

Booker shrugs. He understand where she's coming from. "I don't know. I do know that I don't like all of you speculating on my life like I'm on one of those dating shows you watch all the time.”

"Fair enough. Can I just point out one thing?" 

"What." Booker huffs.

"You've smiled for our entire conversation which is the literally longest I've seen you smile since I've known you. It's nice to see."

"I smile," he says defensively.

"Yeah, but not like this."

The next morning, he's on his morning walk with Joe and he can tell Joe wants to talk. Joe keeps looking at him and opens his mouth to say something and then changes his mind. They're halfway through the walk when Booker's had enough. "I know Nicky told you, so how much do you know?" 

"Not a hell of a lot, just her name and that you looked happy when you were with her," Joe pauses, "oh and he mentioned her hat."

Booker groans when he remembers the hat. "Was he was spying on me?"

"No, it was a coincidence he saw you there. Then, he didn't want to interrupt," Joe sips his coffee, "so were you ... happy?"

"I dunno," Booker shrugs, he's not sure he even knows what happy is anymore, "I guess."

"Did you enjoy being with her?"

"She's intriguing. She has an odd sense of humour."

"Ahh, so I'm assuming that shirt and hat were her idea?" 

"It sure as fuck wasn't mine," Booker remarks, "I caught her when she tripped and coffee spilled on my shirt."

"I'm still only half awake so please don't punch me for saying this, but that might be the cutest first encounter I've ever heard." 

"Fuck, Nicky's right, you are an incurable romantic."

"Over 900 years with the love of your life will do that to you."

"So, speaking of ... uhh, I dreamt about Simone again last night," Booker heaves, "I think going to the cemetery is bringing up things that I'd rather forget."

"Was it what she said to you when she was dying?"

"Yep," Booker grunts, "what if I mess up Lily the way I screwed up my family?"

Joe sighs, "you're doing that thing you always do."

"Which is?"

"You get stuck in your head, convince yourself something bad's gonna happen to give yourself an excuse not to try." 

Booker winces. He's not sure he knows another way to operate. "So you got any advice to share?"

"Just invite her for a drink."

"What if --"

"She wouldn't have given you her number if she didn't want to and she easily could have walked away at any point in the afternoon. Stop overthinking it."

Joe leaves him alone to go help Nicky makes breakfast and Booker taps out a message inviting Lily for a drink. He presses send before he can change his mind. To his surprise, Lily replies right away and they make plans to meet that evening. 

Lily's already at the bar when he gets there and she greets him with a teasing smile. "I was hoping you'd wear the shirt."

"I got rid of that fucking thing as soon as I got home."

"That's too bad, you looked cute in it."

"Ahh yes, there's nothing more encouraging than telling a grown-ass man that he looked cute in a shirt."

They order some drinks and snacks and he tells Lily about Nile's dilemma, calling her a co-worker and fibbing about her hatred for dating apps. Lily suggests speed dating events and Booker texts Nile some information before putting his phone on silent because he doesn't want to deal with Nile's texts asking how things are going. 

They're on their second drink when Lily drums her fingers on the table. "So, I wanted to ask if you would go somewhere with me tomorrow. No pressure if you're uncomfortable."

"I'm not in the habit of telling women what to do but I highly recommend that you work on that sales pitch."

"It's a grief support group." Booker grimaces and Lily nods, "I get why you're reacting that way. Grief can be very isolating and for me knowing that there's other people who know what I've been though helps me feel less alone."

"I don't see how sitting in a circle and drinking cheap coffee will help me get over this."

"But 'getting over it' isn't the purpose. That may never happen. We share coping skills and strategies. The group is about finding ways to live a happy life while managing grief."

He tells her he'll think about it. And he does. He even discusses it with Nile and Joe who encourage him to go. "Just be careful about what you discuss," Joe warns, "the last thing anyone needs is Copley finding out and then shutting that group down. You know he would too."

He attends the first meeting and it's exactly what he expects: a very chilly room at community centre with cheap coffee, stale cookies, and uncomfortable plastic chairs arranged in a circle. It's strange to him for many reasons, people of different ages openly talking about grief is definitely not something he's used to, but the oddest thing is the way this little community supports each other through what the counsellor calls the stages of grief. He's not sure if he buys into some of the strategies shared during the meeting -- he may be too old to ever agree with any of it -- however, he goes to the next meeting, and the meeting after that. 

He spends time with Lily after the meetings and even sees her when there aren't any meetings. He finds out about the different countries she's worked in, why she became a doctor, and how much she misses travelling. She loves football too, even played up until she graduated secondary school, and they spend one afternoon kicking the ball back and forth. She cheers for a rival team and he tries not to hold it against her, especially when her team defeats his.

He has to be careful about what he tells her about his life, of course. He's used to straddling the line between truth and fiction. The team rarely interacts with mortals (no repeats isn't just a rule for jobs) and he's never concerned himself with the effect half-truths have on people before. He's okay with lying to criminals or people he never plans on seeing again, but he doesn't want to lie to Lily. He wouldn't feel good about it.

When she tells him that her mother was a music teacher and played the guitar in a band, he wishes he could tell her about how his mother also shared her love of music with him. There's so much he has to hold back. He can't tell her that his mother was a domestic servant for a Marquis who regularly hosted private classical music concerts, how she would sneak him to work so he could listen works by Haydn, Bach, Mozart, and Beethoven. He can't tell her that he wasn't allowed to watch them play because the Marquis would have had him and his mother punished so he sat in the basement and to listen to orchestras. He can't tell her he was in his late 20s when he first saw an orchestra, how he took his wife there for their 10th anniversary, and couldn't decide what he loved more, seeing the orchestra or watching his wife's reaction to the orchestra. 

Instead, he tells her part of the truth, leaving out historical details that would give away the time period and smiles at the memory of how much the other domestic servants liked him, how they'd bring him half-eaten dishes only the noble class could afford, like roasted duck, braised lamb, and soufflés and deserts like creme brulée and mille-feuille, and insist he eat everything that was put in front of him.

Lily looks at him fondly, "that's the most I've ever heard you talk at once. Why don't you share like that with the group?"

"I don't want to put my pain on display." 

"I know it's not easy to be vulnerable --"

"I have no issues with vulnerability. You should know that."

"Then why don't you ever talk in the meetings? I can't imagine the pain of losing your wife and three sons."

"No, you can't so I'd really appreciate it if you'd stop insisting I grieve the way you do. I don't even know why you're so concerned."

"I thought we were," she shrugs, "I thought it was obvious. Do I have to say it first? Okay fine. I like spending time with you, I like getting to know you. I _like_ you Sebastien." 

"Oh ... I ...Oh." He wasn't expecting that. 

"Well okay, that's not exactly the reaction I was hoping for."

"I think you're wonderful, Lily." 

She touches the side of his face then and kisses him. He definitely wasn't expecting that. Her lips are soft and she tastes a little like the caramel latte she just drank. He kisses her back and puts a hand on the small of her back so he can kiss her deeper. They pull away to breathe and she presses her forehead against his, "I've wanted to do that for the longest time. You wanna get out of here?"

He wants to but she looks at him with so much trust that it breaks him. She deserves better than someone who can't ever be honest with her. He takes a few deep breaths and presses his fingers into his temple. "I should ... I gotta go. Sorry." He leaves the café quickly and doesn't look back.

When he gets home, Nicky's cleaning up in the kitchen and greets him with a confused look. "Oh, I thought you were with Lily. We weren't expecting you back so early or we would have waited to eat. Did you have supper?"

"I'm not hungry."

"Why are you back so soon?"

"It's complicated," Booker sits at the table and puts his head in his hands, "we kissed."

"Your first kiss?" Booker nods. "Did you like kissing her?" He nods again. "Ahh," Nicky says thoughtfully and puts bowl of soup in front of Booker, "you're pushing her away." 

Booker dips some crusty bread in the soup. He wonders if Nicky will ever accept 'I'm not hungry' as an excuse for skipping meals. He hopes not. "I shouldn't have spent so much time with her. There are feelings involved now. Hers and mine."

"And?"

"Come on Nicky, we don't get to have things like this with mortals. _I_ don't get to have things like this."

"So you're just going to deny yourself some happiness, even if it's momentary?" 

"How can I pursue anything when I'm constantly keeping things from her? She trusts me. It makes me feel sick."

"I wish there was another way. I don't know why Joe and I get to have this, while Andy and Quynh got what they did, and why you don't," Nicky sits next to him and squeezes his shoulder. "I just hate to see you give up on something that makes you so happy. You seem so much lighter after you've seen her. In all the time I've known you I don't think I've ever seen you happy."

"Well, I probably fucked things up anyways. I took off after we kissed." Booker shrugs and takes out his flask, "and she's texted three times since then and called once."

Nicky grabs Booker's flask and takes a few sips. "Lemme ask you something, would you like to take the next step in your relationships with her?" When Booker nods, Nicky says, "okay, then be as honest as you can. Maybe explain that you don't know how long we'll be in France, and if you leave, you have no idea when you'll come back. Let her make the decision on the next step in your relationship."

"What if she says she's okay with it and I don't want to leave her?"

"Andy's done this before, she loved someone and stayed with him until he died a very old man. There's always a way."

"But I'd have to live away from all of you."

"It's only time. We'd live physically apart for a while, but we're family. You'll never be without us, Booker. Not ever again."

Booker doesn't say anything for a while, then he nods and looks up, "you're a good brother, Nicky."

Nicky squeezes his shoulder, "finish eating before it gets cold and then call Lily. Regardless of what you decide, she deserves an explanation."

He washes his supper dishes and calls Lily. It's after midnight but he knows she'll be awake. "Hey," he says when she answers, "I'm sorry for running away like that. Did you get home okay?"

"I did. No one's ever reacted like that after I kissed them," she chuckles, "my ego is a bit bruised."

"You have no reason to feel that way."

"But you're not disputing that kissing me is what made you run away."

"It was a great kiss."

"So why'd you take off like that?"

"I uhh .... I need to be honest with you. I'm not sure how long I'll be in France. I travel a lot for work and we might have to leave at a moment's notice. It depends on the job but I wouldn't know when or if we'd be back."

"I see and here I thought private security was just standing next to rich people and watching video feeds."

"There's a little more to it than that."

"Are you in trouble?"

"No no ... you're not in any danger, " he assures her, "I think you deserve to have all the information before anything more happens between us."

"I appreciate it. This is a lot to take in. Can I think about it?"

"Of course."

"Still friends?"

"Always."

"Good, because this bar is hosting an open mic night. Part of the proceeds from the drinks and food goes to a fund to help refugees get started with whatever they need. Would you want to go?" 

"Open mic, huh?" He grimaces and though she can't see his face, she can hear it.

She laughs, "haven't we talked about you expanding your definition of fun?"

"There's nothing wrong with my definition of fun."

"Says the man who claims he got rid of the fun shirt I got him."

"That shirt got exactly what it deserved and I thought we agreed to never bring up that shirt again."

"I don't remember agreeing to that," she teases, "come keep me company anyways?"

"I'll think about it."

"I'll text you the address."

"That's rather presumptive. I haven't decided if I'm going yet."

"Nah, presumptive is telling you to meet me there around 8."

The night of the open mic rolls around and since he was raised to never keep a lady waiting, he gets to the bar promptly at 8 pm. He stuffs a bunch of euros into the donation box. Lily has a table in the corner of the room and introduces him to some of the performers she knows. He ends up in few Instagram pictures and sends Copley a quick text to get rid of them. They watch a few performances and then he and Lily head out during the halfway mark to walk around and eat gelato. It starts to rain so offers her a lift home and parks near her apartment building. 

"Thank you for coming tonight," Lily says. 

"Sure. It was interesting."

"I've been thinking since we talked. I realize you can't commit to anything and I'm not sure I want that right now either. I think ... I feel that if I walk away from this I'll always wonder _what if_. I think I need to see if there's anything between us." 

"Okay. Are you sure?"

"Yes."

"I'd like to kiss you again. Is that okay?" 

"Yep."

It's a tentative, soft kiss, he pulls away and looks into her eyes. He finds what he's looking for so he kisses her again, this time with more purpose. Lily wraps her arms around his neck and kisses back. 

"Wanna come upstairs?" she asks.

"I do. Are you sure this is what you want?" 

"Yes." 

"Even though--"

"Yes," she interrupts, "yes." 

She lives in the fifth floor of a walk-up and he holds her hand as they walk to her apartment. She unlocks the door and a fluffy tabby greets Lily by rubbing against her legs. "I rescued her a few days ago. Her name is Princess Annabelle," Lily explains as Booker bends down to let the cat sniff his hand, "l know it’s the most cat name ever. It's the perfect name for her. I don't think I'll change it."

"She beautiful," Bookers pets her soft fur. Princess Annabelle rolls on to her back and Booker rubs her belly. 

"As much as she loves the attention, I hope you're not going to spend all night with my cat."

He shakes his head and stands. He sits next to Lily on the sofa and kisses her again. She slips her hand under his shirt and he sighs when her hands touch his stomach. He tugs on the bottom of her shirt, "can I?" She nods so he slips it over her head. She sits on his lap and he runs his fingers up her spine while kissing her neck, encouraged by the soft noises she whispers in his ear. "Bedroom?" he whispers. She nods so he picks her up and carries her to her bedroom. He gently puts her on the bed. His hands linger her belt, he looks at her and when she nods, he pulls off her jeans. He takes off his shirt and jeans and lies down beside her. 

He presses open mouthed kisses all over her body, all the way down between her legs. He teases her with the tip of his tongue, he's gentle at first, barely touching her, and smiles when he gets the reaction he was hoping for, when she whines and grabs his hair to push him down, showing him exactly what she wants. It's been a long time since he's done this, since he's had the opportunity to take his time and enjoy it, so he's happy to give her what she needs. She moans softly and tangles her fingers in his hair. He loves feeling her become slowly undone like this and strokes himself to get some relief. And when she arches her back and starts panting heavily and mumbling incoherently and he groans into her thigh.

"Fuck ... that was ... you are very good at that," she mumbles when he presses his face into her neck, "give me a second to catch my breath and I can take care of you."

He's happy to hold her in his arms and enjoy the feeling of being close to another person again. "I can wait. I want to be inside you."

She nods and snuggles against his body and he kisses her forehead. And later when she kisses him, demanding, full of passion and desire, he moans into her mouth. He pushes his nose into her neck, breathes deep and licks some of the sweat from there. He kisses her shoulder and her cheeks and the tip of her nose. She takes a condom out of the night table and rolls it on him. Her touch makes him gasp. "Jesus," he moans as he pulls her closer, "that feels good."

She nudges him with her nose and he weaves his hand into her hair, gently pulling her head back so he can look into her eyes. He pushes inside slowly, eyes locked with hers until he's all the way in, and he thrusts slow and deep. Lily wraps her legs around his waist which encourages him to thrust harder.

He laces his fingers with hers and he shudders. And while he didn't expect this round to last long, he certainly didn't think it would be over this quickly either. He's disappointed at first but when Lily looks at him with soft eyes, he smiles and presses his face into her neck. He's still shivering and gasping so Lily rubs his back until he catches his breath. 

"We're doing that again," she orders.

"Okay." He's more than happy to oblige. 


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not beta'd. Mistakes are my own.

Booker wakes up with a start because he had been dreaming of Quynh. He wipes the sweat from his forehead and neck. He can hear Lily in the kitchen and he's grateful he woke up alone. He digs his fingers into his arm to help him calm down and flops his arm on the pillow. He startles when Princess Annabelle makes an agitated sound beside him. He pats her head in apology and she climbs on his chest and starts purring. He pets her for a few minutes before setting her aside so he can sit up. 

He has a few texts from Joe and Nile. He sends a quick reply to let Joe know he'll be home later and ignores Nile's messages. He'll need a lot more caffeine to deal with Nile's level of excitement. He washes his face in the bathroom and brushes his teeth using toothpaste on his finger. Princess Annabelle paws at his feet when he's getting dressed and he picks her up and carries her to the kitchen. 

"Morning," Lily smiles when he walks into the kitchen. She's whipping a bowl of eggs while dancing to the music that's playing on her iPhone. "I hope you like omelettes. There's coffee," she points, "and help yourself to some fruit, if you'd like."

He sets Princess Annabelle down in front of her food bowl. He pours a cup of coffee and munches on a strawberry, "can I help?" 

"Oh no. You did more than enough last night. That was ... you're very talented."

Booker blushes and busies himself with washing some of the dishes in the sink, just to have something to do with his hands. They eat breakfast on her balcony and he washes the rest of the dishes while Lily gets ready for work. 

"Will I see you tonight?" Lily asks he walks her to her car. 

They have a job today, some assholes who are getting kids addicted to fentanyl so they can traffic them, "I have work tonight. It might be late."

"I'll probably still be up if you want to come by after."

He sleeps at her place that night and then the next several days. It's a couple times a week at first, and that turns into weekends, and that turns into practically every night. He happily throws himself into the relationship. He often has supper ready when Lily gets home from work. He plays with Princess Annabelle. He fixes things around her apartment, the air conditioning, creaky doors, and leaking faucets. He meets her friends and ends up in some social media posts that he quickly scrubs from the Internet before Copley can find out. Before he realizes it, a several months have passed. 

They're in bed together one night and Lily asks why she's never seen pictures of his wife and sons. It's something Booker is unprepared to answer -- he's never gotten close enough to anyone outside of the family -- and though he has Joe's sketches, he can't show them to her without explaining the time period. 

"Oh okay," Lily mumbles when he takes too long to answer, "never mind."

"It's not what you think," Booker frets, unsure how to explain why she can't see them, "it's just ... complicated." 

"Everything is complicated when I ask about you. You've met my friends and I still haven't met anyone from your life. I'm starting to wonder if I'm a secret."

"They know about you," Booker tries to reassure her, "and you've met Nicky."

"One time for a few minutes," Lily retorts, "because that's the same fucking thing as meeting him as your girlfriend."

"I can ask if Nicky and Joe want to meet for supper or drinks."

"Who's Joe?"

"Nicky's husband ... also my best friend."

"See? I didn't even know he had a husband or that you had a best friend."

"I'm sorry. I'm not very good at getting to know people. I don't know how to talk about myself," Booker shrugs, "most of the people I know already know about me. "

"Did you introduce them?"

Booker shakes his head, "Nicky and Joe have been together forever."

"What are they like?"

"Joe is super romantic; Nicky's incredibly compassionate. They're that couple, you know, where you can't imagine one without the other? They're two halves of the one soul."

"I'd love to meet them."

And so, one night when Andy and Nile are visiting Copley in London, he introduces Lily to Joe and Nicky. He feels bad about doing this when Andy and Nile are away but they can be overwhelming for different reasons and he's not even sure how to explain who they are. At least with Nicky, he has the brother excuse they made up when Lily first met him. 

He's nervous about introducing Lily to Joe though. His concern is alleviated quickly when Lily picks a tapas restaurant that has salsa dancing which is perfect because Lily and Joe both love salsa dancing and because Nicky and Booker don't.

"It's nice to meet you," Lily says to Joe when they get to the restaurant, "though I only found out about you last week."

"Don't take it personally, Booker's always been a guarded person," Joe explains, "and Nicky and I have always kept to ourselves. It's a terrible combination for meeting new people."

"I have to thank you for that lovely image of Booker in that shirt," Nicky chuckles, "that's something that will make me happy for a very long time."

Lily laughs, "he still complains about that shirt."

They order a bunch of dishes and even more wine and continue their teasing of Booker. Nicky even sends Lily the picture he took of Booker in the shirt. "I told you to delete that!" Booker grumbles. Nicky shrugs and winks. Booker acts like he's upset, but he's secretly happy that they're getting along so well. It'll make it easier when Andy meets Lily. 

"So what do you do Lily?" Nicky asks.

"Booker didn't tell you? I'm a doctor. I work with migrants, mostly children at Doctors Without Borders."

"Booker never mentioned that. Why did decide to become a doctor?"

"I always wanted to be a doctor to help people that need it," Lily shrugs, "and I'm good at it."

"It must be tough to see children like that. I imagine many of them are terrified."

"Terrified yes, some are also hopeful that the horrors are behind them," she sighs, "a lot of them never got the chance to be children."

"It's wonderful that you want to help them. Not everyone would be willing to do that, especially since you don't get paid very much."

"Yeah, well," Lily looks away and takes a sip of wine. 

"Lily's very humble and not good with accepting compliments," Booker explains, "it makes her uncomfortable."

They finish eating and then the salsa music starts and Joe and Lily rush off to the dance floor. Nicky and Booker sit at the table and drink Cognac. "She's got a lot of energy," Nicky remarks as they watch Joe and Lily, "500 says she tires out Joe."

Booker laughs, "oh fuck no, I'm not betting against my girl. She'll never forgive me if she finds out."

"Straight couples are so weird."

"You think all couples that haven't been together for 900 years are weird."

Nicky smiles when Joe and Lily make their way back to the table to hydrate. Lily chugs wine and smiles at Joe, "I'm so happy you like salsa dancing. This one," Lily kisses Booker's cheek, "claims his hips can’t move like that."

"Nicky says the same thing," Joe shrugs, "I don't know how he can move like that in bed and not on the dance floor."

"Ohh, maybe me and Booker should try salsa dancing naked."

"We’ve tried it," Joe chuckles, "it doesn’t work."

"That's because you keep getting distracted," Nicky admonishes. 

"I've never heard you complain about it."

"It's not a complaint babe, just pointing out an important detail you neglected to share."

Lily laughs, "you two are adorable."

"We know," Joe winks. 

They leave the restaurant after midnight, exhausted but happy. They make plans to meet again soon. 

"Thank you for tonight," Booker says when they get to her place, "I uhh I'm glad you met them." Lily's in the kitchen and shoving some of their leftovers into her mouth. She changed into comfortable shorts and that Paris shirt and her hair is piled on top of her head in a messy bun. She's a bit sweaty from all the dancing and Booker thinks she's never looked more beautiful. “Shit,” he blurts out. 

“What?” she asks with a mouthful of food, "I drank a lot and danced a lot and now I'm hungry."

"That's not it ... I ... I'm in love with you.”

"You choose now to tell me this," she waves her hands at her clothes,"when I look like a slob and I'm shoveling good into my mouth?"

"You look beautiful." 

"I'm not sure you know what that word means."

"I know exactly what it means and I stand by my statements," Booker steps closer to her, "both of them."

"You're ridiculous," she says fondly, " and well I kinda already knew. My friends told me how you look at me when I’m not looking. "

Booker raises an eyebrow and sits beside her, "Oh, and how do they say I look at you?"

"Like you’re trying to figure out what you did to get so lucky," Lily smiles softly, "but I’ll tell you a secret, I’m the lucky one." 

Booker sighs happily and pulls her into his lap and presses a hard kiss on first her mouth and then her neck before pulling her into a hug. "I guess we both got lucky."

"You know that I'm in love with you too, right?"

"I do now," he brushes the hair out of her eyes and kisses her again, softer this time, "come on, let's go to bed." 

He heads back to the safe house the following day with a jump in his step, humming softly as he opens the door. He stops when sees everyone waiting for him. Nile, Nicky, and Joe look sad. Andy looks angry. 

"Oh hello, did we have a meeting?" It comes out like a question. 

"Book, we gotta talk," Andy points at the empty seat at the kitchen table.

"Okay," he sits down, "did we find Quynh?"

"This isn't about Quynh," Andy huffs. She sounds disappointed and Booker wracks his brain trying to figure out if he did something to make her sound like that. He doesn't have to wait long to find out. “Were you ever going to tell me that Lily's a doctor?"

He looks at Nicky and Joe, "what does her being a doctor have to do with anything?"

Andy shakes her head, "how could you bring someone like that into our lives again?"

"What did you tell her?" Booker demands, looking at Nicky and Joe, "after everything she told you, you should know she's not like that. She wants to help people, not hurt them."

"They didn't tell me anything. I had Copley look into her. He told me."

"She's not a threat!"

"And what happens when one of her patients get sick and she can’t save them?" Andy tries to touch his arm but he jerks out of her reach, "all doctors have good intentions and then they want to experiment on us for the greater good." 

"You don’t know her."

"I'm old. I don't need to."

"What does this have to do with anything anyways? She doesn't know what we are. I won't tell her."

"What if you get cut? Or a bruise?" Andy points out, "she’ll notice how quickly you heal. How will you explain that?" 

Booker shakes his head. He hasn't thought about that but that's not the point, "where is this coming from, boss?

"I'm worried about you. How long is this thing going to go on?"

"It's only been a few months!"

"Losing Simone destroyed you. Losing Lily will destroy you too. You gotta end it," Andy says softly, "you know there's an expiry date on our relationships with mortals."

"You've done this with mortals before, stayed with them until they died from old age. How did you explain things to them?"

"They weren't doctors!"

"Please don’t make me to break up with her," he begs, "she's important to me." He looks at Joe and Nicky for support, but they shake their heads sadly. When they don't say anything, he grunts, "I thought you wanted me to be a happy. You pushed me to see where things would go with her. Well, this is where things have gone. Was the plan all along to punish me for Merrick? Let me be happy and then take it away from me?"

"No," Joe interrupts, "we didn't think about how this relationship would affect you long term."

"Why don't I get to be happy? You have Nicky, Andy has Quynh. So Nile and I get nothing because there aren't any immortals for us?"

"How do I have Quynh?" Andy cries out, "I don't even know where she is."

"But you will. We will get her back and I'll spend every day with the person that tortured me. I'll do it because you love her and she makes you happy. Can't you do that for me for however long Lily has?"

"The more time you spend with her, the harder it will be for you when she dies. You wanna add the weight of Lily's death to all the other pain you carry?"

"She's worth it," Booker whispers, "if you would just meet her you would see what I mean. Joe and Nicky --"

"This is my decision. They tried to talk me out of it," Andy stands and walks to the front door. She puts her hand on the door knob and turns to look at Booker, "end it or I’ll have Copley fix it so she never wants to see you again." She leaves and the door slams behind her.

Booker opens his mouth to say something to Joe, Nicky, and Nile but he can't find the words. Instead, he stands; he looks at them sadly and shakes his head. He get up and goes to his room. He needs to be alone so he shuts the door. He comes out of his room several hours later. The kitchen and living room are empty and he can hear Joe and Nicky talking quietly in their room and Nile running outside. He's not sure where Andy is. She'll probably steer clear of him for a few days and then come back and pretend that she didn't set things in motion to break his heart. He'll let her, too. He doesn't know how much time Andy has left and he won't spend one minute of it being angry with her. 

He sits on the sofa and takes his phone out of his jacket. He's staring at a selfie he took with Lily when Joe and Nicky sits beside him. "Mind if we watch TV?" Joe asks. When Booker doesn't answer, Joe sighs, "I know this isn't what you want to hear now, but Andy's intentions are good. She loves you. She only wants to protect you from future pain."

"By making me feel pain now?"

"She thinks it's the right thing to do. You know how she gets when she's convinced of something."

"I just told Lily I love her and now I have to break up with her."

"Oh, we didn't know you were in love."

"I didn't expect it to happen, but it did and now you want to take it away from me."

"We don’t want you to be unhappy. I just," Joe sighs, "I don't have any experience with loving mortals."

"Andy's done it more than once," Booker points out.

"Andy doesn't let herself love too deeply, not since Quynh. You ... you're not like that," Nicky points out, "you put your whole heart and soul into loving people. You can't hold back."

"I never thought I'd feel this way for someone again. How do I make her believe that I don't want to be with her anymore? What do I say?" He puts his face in his hands and Nicky puts his hand on Booker's back. "Don't," Booker grunts, "don't try to comfort me right now."

"You should go to her, spend some time with her," Nicky whispers. 

"I can’t see her face when I do this," Booker sits back and trembles, "I need to walk away with the memory of her looking at me with love and I won't get that if I see her."

Nicky looks at Joe and they seem to have a silent conversation. When Joe nods, Nicky nods back, "we’ll talk to Andy. Go be with Lily."

"What?" Booker looks at both of them in disbelief.

"Go," Joe commands and nods his head at the front door.

Booker doesn’t meet to be told twice. He grabs his shoes, jacket, and phone and gets ready to leave. He's at the door and stops and turns back and hugs Nicky and Joe. "Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I won’t forget this."

Joe pats Booker's back, "okay okay, get out of here before we change our minds."

Booker takes the bike to Lily's. He runs up the stairs and uses his key to open the door. "Hey, back so soon?" Lily smiles when she sees him. She's watching a movie on Netflix and eating pizza. 

"I wanted to see you," Booker lifts her up into a hug. 

"You just saw me a few hours ago," Lily giggles when he swings her around.

Booker shrugs and kisses her forehead, "it was more than a few hours and I missed you." He sits on the sofa and pulls her into his lap, "what are we watching?"

"It's kinda boring actually. It was quiet without you here and I wanted some background noise," Lily smirks seductively, "wanna fuck?"

He licks his lips, "always." He kisses her and goes to pull off her shirt.

"Wait. You always wanna fuck or you always wanna fuck me?" Lily jokes.

"Just you, Lily. Only you. Even if I live a thousand lifetimes, it will always be you."

It's around two in the morning when he wakes up to pounding on the door. He sits up with a start and pulls on a pair of sweats. He shakes Lily awake. "What is it?" Lily mumbles sleepily.

  
"Baby you gotta get up." He grabs her jacket and shoes and Princess Annabelle and pushes both of them onto the balcony. "Put on your coat and shoes," he orders, "don’t come out back in here no matter what you hear." He gives her his phone, "climb down. Get as far as you can. Call Nicky or Joe. They'll help you."

"What the fuck?" Lily demands when Booker pulls a gun from under a patio chair, "you have a fucking gun in my home?"

"Lily, you need to trust me. Call Joe or Nicky, they'll explain everything."

"I'm not going anywhere until you tell me what the fuck is happening." 

"There's no time. I love you," Booker shoves her into a corner out of sight and closes the balcony door. He stands behind the front door and aims his gun. 

"Booker let us in!" 

He sighs in relief when he hears Nile's voice. He opens the door and Nile pushes her way inside. Joe and Nicky follow, dragging Andy inside. She's bleeding and groaning in pain. "What the fuck happened?"

"She got shot," Nile explains.

"Was this Quynh?"

"No, some piece of shit organ trafficker."

"You had a job? Why didn’t you tell me?"

"We've worked jobs without you Booker," Nile grunts, "and we thought you could use the night off."

"I should have been there!"

"We can talk about that later," Nicky interrupts, "for now, we need a doctor. We need Lily."

"Andy doesn't trust her," Booker reminds them, "what about Copley?"

"With his in-laws. It's the anniversary of his wife's death. We can't wait for him. Andy needs help now."

"Fuck," Booker opens the balcony door. Lily is sitting on the lawn chair with Princess Annabelle in her arms. She looks up at him and he can see that she's crying. She looks terrified. He kneels down next to her, "it's okay, Lily. I'm sorry I scared you. It's just my family. Andy's hurt. We need your help."

He extends his hand to her and Lily takes it so he pulls her up and leads her into the apartment. She takes one look at Andy and stares wide-eyed, "she needs a fucking hospital," she tries to call an ambulance and Joe reaches for his gun. Booker waves him off. 

"You can't. We can't go to a hospital."

"Why the fuck not?"

"It's not safe," Joe answers.

"Oh my god, you're fucking criminals."

"No, we're not," Booker shakes his head, "we're not bad people."

"That's what all criminals believe."

Booker squeezes Lily's hand, "Andy's family, please help her."

Lily glares at all of them. "Family huh? Funny how I've never heard her name until now."

"I understand that you're upset," Nicky says softly, "there's a lot Booker wasn't able to tell you because we wouldn't allow it. You have every right to feel angry, but Andy may die."

"I can't believe you're guilting me into this," she looks angry, angrier than Booker has ever seen her. She sighs, "do any of you have medical training?"

"I do," Nicky offers. 

"Fine, take off that hoodie. Scrub your hands up the the elbow." Lily puts a clean bedsheet on the kitchen table, "get her on the table and take off her jacket." She scrubs her hands and takes gloves out of her medical bag. She hands a pair to Nicky and starts to examine Andy. "Someone tell me what happened."

"She was shot twice. One exit wound," Nile explains, "she keeps waking up and passing out."

"I need to give her morphine. Is she allergic?"

Joe and Nicky balk, "Andy won't like that. She has a high pain tolerance."

"I don't give a shit about pain tolerance," Lily glares, "I need to stick my hand inside her and pull out a bullet. That will hurt. She gets some kind of sedative or this doesn't happen at all."

Andy writhes in pain and Lily touches the side of her face. "Andy, are you with us?" 

"Yes," Andy grits her teeth.

"My name is Lily. You're in my apartment and you've been shot. I'm going to give you some morphine for the pain. Is that okay?" Andy nods and Lily sticks a needle in her arm and waits for the morphine to work. "Hold her down," she nods at Booker, Joe, and Nile, "I can't have her moving around when I'm in there looking for the bullet." She hands Nicky some towels, "keep pressure on this wound and be ready to put pressure on the other one when I find the bullet. Just a warning: there will be a lot of blood." 

Lily slowly pushes her finger in Andy's wound and Andy grunts and trashes in pain. Booker panics at the amount of blood on the towels. He can tell Nicky's worried about the same thing. When Lily finds the bullet, she pulls it out and drops in on the table and Nicky quickly pockets its before Lily can notice. She disinfects the would and stitches everything up. "I've done the best I can but she lost a lot of blood. She needs a transfusion," Lily says as she washes her hands. 

Booker sits on the floor and puts his face in his hands. They're woefully unprepared to care for Andy as a mortal. They don't even know her blood type.

"How did this happen," Lily demands. It doesn't come out like a question. 

"We’re on the same side," Nicky sighs, "you must know that working within the law doesn’t always get things done. The system is corrupt and not designed to help people who really need it. Sometimes people need to work outside the law."

"And how do I know you're not the bad guys? I just take your word for it? You rush in here in the middle of the night with a woman who was shot twice. You have military weapons on you and don't think I haven't noticed that fucking sword on your hip. None of this is fucking normal so please don't act like it is."

"How can we convince you?" Joe asks.

"I don't know." Lily puts her hands on her hips, "but I helped you because I love Booker and you've put me in the position where someone could die in my home."

"We'll get her out of here," Nile says, "and clean up. No one will ever know."

"I'll know," Lily spits, "and you can't move her without risking her life."

"So what do we do?" Nile asks.

"I don't even know who you are," Lily tells Nile, "I just met Nicky and Joe a couple days ago. He's never mentioned Andy or you."

"That's Nile," Booker replies, "she's family. All of us are family."

Lily purses her lips, "I need someone to come with me and someone needs to stay here to make sure Andy doesn't bleed out." 

"You're gonna help us?" Booker looks up, "you believe us?"

"I haven't decided but I took an oath and I can't let her die."

"Thank you Lily. Nile and I have the most medical training. We'll stay," Nicky offers, "Booker and Joe will help you."

"Okay," Joe and Booker nod, "where are we going?"

"I'll have to get supplies from work. They scan our bags so I'll bring everything to you from one of the back doors. What's her blood type?" When Joe and Booker shake their heads, Lily rolls her eyes, "of course you don't know," she mutters, "universal donor it is."

"Lil, I'm sor--," Booker tries to grab her hand. 

"I don't want to hear it right now," Lily snaps, "I'm too angry."

They drive to Lily's work in silence, the only sound is Lily's angry breathing. She pulls up to a building 20 minutes later and takes out her employee pass. She turns off the car and looks at both of them, "I could lose my license for this."

"We won’t let that happen," Joe says. 

She shakes her head and points at a door, "we're monitored with 24 hour security guards and cameras. If there's an incident, the police are notified immediately. You need to stay by that door. I can avoid the camera but we only have 10 seconds before the camera turns back. I'll be 15 minutes." She gets out of the car and turns back, "the people who work here are good people protecting refugees for very little pay. Please don't hurt anyone." She doesn't wait for them to answer. She heads to the front door and Booker and Joe stand by the back door and wait. Lily opens the door and hands them two bags, "meet me at the car," she whispers before quietly closing the door. 

They creep back to the car and wait. Booker hates that they've put Lily the position where she needs to steal from work and hates it even more that he doesn't know if she's been caught. Fifteen minutes pass and there's no sign of Lily. Joe looks at his watch and looks at Booker. Booker signals to wait for 10 more minutes. Finally, Lily emerges from the building. She sits in the car and trembles.

"Baby," Booker whispers, "are you okay?" 

"The security guard .. he was bored and lonely and wanted to talk about tonight's game. I was worried he'd suspect something if I took off." 

They get back to Lily's apartment and move Andy into Lily's bedroom where she'll be more comfortable. Lily sets up the IV and watches as the blood starts flowing into Andy's arms. She takes out some antibiotics and makes Andy take them. "Twice a day," she tells Andy, "to avoid infection. Drink lots of water and get some rest." She closes the bedroom door and sits on the sofa. 

"How angry are you?" Booker asks as Lily disinfects her medical tools. Joe, Nicky, and Nile are standing around the kitchen table, pretending to be busy with gathering the sheets and towels that are covered in Andy's blood. They'll burn everything when they get to their safe house. 

"Who are you?" Lily asks. Her voice is cold, distant, "and don't tell me this was a private security job that got out of hand because that's obviously a lie."

"We can't tell you," Joe says.

"I just stole blood, antibiotics, and pain killers from a medical facility. So I'm gonna need more than 'we can't tell you' because I could go to prison for what I just did."

"The person who finds us jobs told us about these people who are harvesting organs and selling them on the black market," Nicky mumbles. He waves his hand at Nile and Joe when they protest, "they prey on people who are desperate for money. If the people don't die, they wake up alone in a hotel room with scars on their bodies and no memory of what happened."

"So you killed them?"

"Yes, we killed them," Nicky nods, "we don't want to but they need to be stopped. They take advantage of desperate people and have no remorse. They would keep doing it if we didn't stop them."

"So you're murderers," Lily looks at Booker, "have you murdered people too?"

"It's not so black and white Lily. The justice system doesn't always work," Booker cringes, "and sometimes there's only one way to stop bad people."

"The only way to stop this from happening again was to get to their leader," Nicky adds, "and the only way to him was through his subordinates. These organizations are run like a cult. They are expected to give their lives for this, for their leader."

"And this leader?"

"Like most leaders of these kinds of organizations, he was a coward," Nicky grimaces, "he took a cyanide pill when he realized it was all over."

Lily sits on the sofa and puts her face in her hands. Booker can hear her crying and he kneels down next to her. He touches her knee and puts his other hand on her back. "I'm sorry we put you in this position. I never wanted this life to touch you."

"But it did and now everything has changed."

Booker nods. He gets it, "I’ll take my things and go. We'll get Andy tomorrow if that's okay."

"Oh no, you don’t get to bounce because I’m upset. None of you are getting off the hook that easily. I'm fucking exhausted and need time to process how I feel about this."

"I'm sorry I have to ask this, but are you going to turn us in?" Nile asks.

"I'm culpable now, an accessory to whatever the fuck you did tonight. I had numerous chances to turn you in. If I do that now, I'll destroy my life."

"We're sorry, Lily," Nicky says, "truly, we apologize."

"We'll always be grateful for what you did," Joe agrees, "I promise none of this will blow back on you. Everything you took will be back there by seven tomorrow morning. No one will even notice."

"Fuck me, who the fuck are you?" Lily rubs her eyes, "the next 24 hours are critical so I need to check on Andy all night. If you're thinking of drugging me so I don't remember any of this or knocking me out, you put her life at risk."

"We don't do things like that," Booker shakes his head, "I love you, I wouldn't let anything bad happen to you."

"I don't know if I believe you," Lily sighs and sets reminder on her phone, "I'm not even sure if I really know you."

"Booker's the same person he was a few hours ago. Please don't break up with him," Nile pleads, "we were desperate to save Andy and didn't know where else to go."

Lily doesn't say anything. She shakes her head and closes her eyes. 


End file.
